EMID&L  MiMSH 


IT: 


GIVEN  BY  CITIZENS 
3RO.  .SSACHUS1 


it  i*  ii  tx  ja  m  ».mi  n  ;t»i*»  ^  *»  »*  »»  *rr- 


PROPERTY  OF  THE 

Libraries 


FOR 


U.S.  Soldiers 
<2/?g?  Sailors 

provided  by  the 

American  Library  Association 
New  England  Division 


HANDLE 
CAREFULLY 


RETURN 
PROMPTLY 


GIVE  THE  NEXT  MAN  A  CHANCE 


'"E.B.'BIR.D 


THE  AIR  PILOT 


-=3    ^ 


d 

CO 

3 

ft 


THE  AIR  PILOT 

A  Modern  Love  Story 


BY 


RANDALL   PARRISH 

"  KEITH    Or   THE    BORDER,"    "  WHEN   WILE 
UNO,"  M    MY   LADY    OF   DOUBT,"    ETC.,    ETC 


AUTHOR   OP    "  KEITH   OF  THE   BORDER,"    "\VHEK   WILDERNESS   WAS 


ILLUSTRATED   BY 
CLARENCE  F.  UNDERWOOD 


CHICAGO 
A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 

1913 


Copyright 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 

1913 


Published  April,  1913 


Oopjrighted  in  Great  Britain 


PRESS  OF  THE  VAIL  COMPANY 
COSHOCTON,    U.    S.   A. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     A  Monoplane  Mystery 1 

II  The  Voice  in  the  Telephone   ....       9 

III  Beauty  in  Distress 20 

IV  Uncovering  a  Conspiracy 35 

V    At  the  Cafe  Francois 49 

VI     Brandt  Shows  His  Hand 65 

VII     A  Woman   Interferes 82 

VIII     Trapped 96 

IX  "Stone  Walls  Do  Not  a  Prison  Make"     .    112 

X     Miss  Probyn  Defies  Danger 127 

XI     Fresh  Complications 138 

XII     In  the  Death  Chamber 154 

XIII  A  Dash  for  Freedom 170 

XIV  A  Man  and  a  Maid 185 

XV     High  Speed  Forward 200 

XVI  Miss  Probyn   Chooses       .      .      .      .     '.      .215 

XVII     At  the   Hangar 227 

XVIII     The  Fight  in  the  Dark 244 

XIX     How  the  Fight  Ended 259 

XX     "On  Upward  Wings" 274 

XXI     Love   among   the    Clouds 288 

XXII     Face  to  Face  in  Mid-air 302 

XXIII     Mme.  Helen  Dessaud 317 


2137687   ' 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Winging  silent  passage  through  the  sky     .       Frontispiece 

Brandt  gripped  him  none  too  gently  ,      ..      .      ,      58 

He  fought  .  .  .  exhibiting  a  strength  I  had  not  sup- 
posed he  possessed       ,..»...,,      .136 


THE  AIR  PILOT 

CHAPTER  I 

A  MONOPLANE   MYSTERY 

THERE  were  several  of  us,  chance  ac- 
quaintances of  travel,  idling  away  an 
hour  in  the  smoking  room  of  the  Ce&ric, 
when  the  conversation  drifted  to  the  late  avia- 
tion meet  at  Chicago.  I  think  it  was  a  Minne- 
apolis lumber  man  who  originally  introduced  the 
subject,  telling  by  chance  some  incident  of  the 
meet,  but  it  was  Hadley,  an  enthusiast  in  such 
matters,  and  member  of  the  New  York  Aero 
Club,  who  interjected  a  remark  which  led  to  the 
telling  of  this  strange  tale  of  modern  adventure 
and  love. 

"Yes,  I  was  there,"  he  said,  the  blue  rings  from 
his  cigar  circling  above  his  head,  "and  remained 
through  the  meet.  But  the  one  thing  I  went 
for  failed  to  take  place.     Did  any  of  you  fellows 


2  THE  AIR  PILOT 

ever  chance  to  hear  of  the  Dessaud  monoplane? 
I  presume  not,  unless  you  are  students  of  the 
game." 

A  little  man  with  a  white,  wrinkled  face,  leaned 
forward  across  the  table. 

"I  read  about  it  in  a  newspaper,"  he  said 
sharply.  "Some  new  discovery  in  balancing,  and 
a  silent  engine.     Was  that  it?" 

"Partially' — yes,"  acknowledged  Hadley  slow- 
ly. "The  improvements  as  outlined  were  almost 
enough  to  revolutionize  flying.  In  addition, 
there  was  report  of  a  newly  discovered  paint 
which  rendered  an  aeroplane  practically  invisible 
two  hundred  feet  away.  Dessaud  is  a  daring  fel- 
low— a  French  army  officer,  and  well  known  also 
in  England,  where  some  of  his  earlier  mechanical 
inventions  have  been  adopted.  I  first  heard  of 
him  in  Paris  two  years  ago,  and  he  was  spoken 
of  then  as  the  coming  genius  of  French  aviation. 
Naturally  therefore  I  became  intensely  inter- 
ested when  I  heard  of  this  newly  devised  mono- 
plane bearing  his  name,  and  said  to  be  capable 
of  flying  without  noise,  while  bearing  necessary 
supplies  for  a  protracted  journey.  It  was  the 
statement  that  he  was  to  be  there  with  his  new 


A  MONOPLANE  MYSTERY         3 

military  machine  to  demonstrate  its  merits,  which 
took  me  to  Chicago." 

"And  the  man  failed  to  appear?" 

"That  was  the  odd  part  of  it.  Dessaud  was 
certainly  in  the  city^-registered  at  the  Congress. 
I  saw  the  name  myself — 'Philip  Dessaud,  Paris.' 
As  I  remember  now  his  suite  was  'I  54.'  But 
he  was  not  to  be  found;  indeed  the  only  evidence 
that  he  had  ever  been  there  was  that  signature 
on  the  clerk's  book,  and  two  suit  cases  left  un- 
opened in  the  room.  No  one  about  the  hotel  had 
any  remembrance  of  ever  even  seeing  the  man 
with  the  exception  of  the  bell-boy  who  had  taken 
him  up." 

"Probably  a  fake." 

"No,"  firmly.  "That  explanation  does  n't  ex- 
actly fit.  Remember  his  monoplane  was  not  a 
speculation;  it  had  already  been  tried  out  in 
France,  on  the  military  aviation  fields.  It  really 
belonged  to  the  French  government.  He  was  in 
America  on  leave  of  absence  to  demonstrate  its 
military  value.  He  brought  the  machine  with 
him ;  or  rather  it  preceded  him  a  week,  under  care 
of  competent  mechanics,  and  was  already  set  up 
ready  for  flight." 


4  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"You  actually  saw  the  monoplane  then?" 
"I  saw  the  hangar  where  it  had  been  set  up," 
Hadley  admitted,  "but  the  machine  was  not  there, 
nor  any  of  the  men  connected  with  the  enterprise. 
It  had  been,  however,"  he  added  hastily.  "It 
seems  that  Dessaud,  afraid  that  others  might  ap- 
propriate his  idea — at  least  this  is  my  supposi- 
tion— had  arranged,  through  the  assistance  of  the 
French  consul,  for  the  use  of  a  large  vacant  lot 
out  on  Sixty-third  Street,  near  the  lake,  instead 
of  joining  with  the  other  aviators  at  Grant  Park. 
Here  a  hangar  had  been  built,  and  the  machine 
installed.  Two  expert  mechanics  (French  sol- 
diers) and  a  day  and  a  night  watchman  (Pinker- 
ton  men)  were  in  charge.  The  neighbors  saw 
nothing  of  Dessaud,  nor  was  the  machine,  after 
being  set  up,  taken  out  of  the  hangar  at  any  time 
to  their  knowledge.  It  was  there,  however,  seen 
by  a  half  hundred  people,  properly  set  up,  and 
apparently  made  ready  for  flight.  Then  a  pecu- 
liar thing  happened.  The  morning  after  Dessaud 
had  registered  at  the  Congress  Hotel,  when  the 
regular  day  guard  reported  for  duty,  he  found 
no  one  to  relieve,  the  doors  of  the  hangar  stand- 
ing wide  open,  and  the  machine  gone.     The  two 


A  MONOPLANE  MYSTERY  5 

mechanics  never  reappeared,  nor  did  the  Pinker- 
ton  night  watchman  ever  report  back  to  his  of- 
fice. From  that  hour,  so  far  as  I  could  learn,  and 
I  felt  sufficient  curiosity  to  investigate  carefully, 
no  one  ever  saw  a  sign  of  the  missing  monoplane. 
That  is  the  story,  gentlemen." 

"What  did  the  police — the  Pinkerton  people 
do?"  questioned  the  white-faced  man  crisply. 

"Nothing.  From  all  appearances  the  affair 
was  hushed  up.  The  Superintendent  of  the 
Pinkerton  Agency,  when  I  called  at  his  office, 
merely  stated  that  they  were  not  even  consulted, 
and  the  only  newspaper  item  bearing  on  the 
affair,  which  came  to  my  notice,  was  a  paragraph 
in  an  afternoon  sheet  stating  that  the  Dessaud 
monoplane  would  take  no  part  in  the  aviation 
meet,  on  account  of  some  defect  discovered  at  the 
last  moment." 

"And  the  French  consul?" 

"Smiled  and  shrugged  his  shoulders,  saying 
very  politely  that  he  did  not  care  to  interfere 
with  the  private  affairs  of  Monsieur  the  Lieu- 
tenant Dessaud;  that  his  government  was  not  at 
all  involved,  and  hence  he  could  give  me  no  infor- 
mation whatever.     I  did  learn,  however,  from 


6  THE  AIR  PILOT 

other  sources,  that  this  same  noncommittal  gen- 
tleman paid  the  hill  at  the  hotel  promptly,  re- 
covered the  unlocked  suit  cases,  and  furnished 
transportation  for  a  mechanic  from  Chicago  to 
Paris.  Beyond  this  slight  knowledge  the  whole 
episode  remains  a  blank." 

No  one  of  us  spoke  for  several  moments.  Then 
the  man  sitting  opposite  me,  who  had  been  smok- 
ing steadily  while  Hadley  spoke,  apparently  only 
politely  interested  in  the  topic  under  discussion, 
straightened  in  his  upholstered  chair,  and  drew  a 
card  case  from  his  pocket.  The  slight  movement 
attracted  my  attention,  while  the  change  of  pos- 
ture revealed  his  features  under  the  glare  of 
light.  He  might  have  been  thirty  years  of  age, 
smoothly  shaven,  with  pleasant  gray  eyes,  and 
light  hair,  medium  figure,  and  rather  carefully 
dressed.  What  impressed  me  most,  however, 
was  the  firmness  of  the  mouth  and  chin,  and  a 
certain  outward  expression  of  good  breeding 
which  can  never  be  successfully  counterfeited.  I 
instinctively  felt  the  impress  of  character.  As 
I  glanced  across  at  him,  attracted  by  his  first 
movement,  he  quietly  drew  a  card  from  the  case, 
and  extended  it  to  Hadley  across  the  table. 


A  MONOPLANE  MYSTERY  7 

"It  may  be  of  interest  to  you,  Monsieur,"  he 
said  rather  slowly,  yet  in  most  excellent  Eng- 
lish, "to  learn  that  you  have  been  discussing  an 
affair  of  some  importance  to  me." 

Hadley's  face  flamed,  his  eyes  riveted  on  the 
card. 

"I  sincerely  beg  your  pardon,"  he  stammered. 
"I  was  not  aware — " 

"It  is  not  necessary,  the  apology,"  the  other  in- 
terrupted quickly.  "Your  curiosity  was  but 
most  natural.  You  are  an  aviator,  as  I  under- 
stand?" 

"Merely  as  an  amateur." 

"That  is  true  of  us  all — we  learn ;  we  are  stu- 
dents. That  you  feel  the  interest,  possess  the 
faith,  is  enough.  I  am  glad  to  know  that  my 
name  is  not  unknown  to  you  as  a  student.  You 
felt  my  interest  in  my  work — why  should  I  ask 
more?"  His  eyes,  still  smiling,  swept  over  our 
faces.  "One  among  you  said  'fake,'  a  word  I  like 
little.  Perhaps  you  would  listen  while  I  tell  what 
occurred  in  Chicago.  'T  is  rather  an  odd  tale, 
Messieurs,  but  it  is  not  a  'fake.'  Yet  I  have  only 
my  word  to  give." 

"The  monoplane?"  I  asked. 


8  THE  AIR  PILOT 

He  bowed  across  the  table. 

"Lies  a  shapeless  wreck  in  the  north  woods, 
Monsieur,"  he  replied  easily,  "but  with  duty  done. 
You  wish  the  story?" 

He  must  have  read  the  answer  in  our  faces, 
for,  with  a  smile,  he  relit  his  cigar,  and  settled 
back  more  comfortably  in  his  chair. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  VOICE   IN  THE  TELEPHONE 

I  WILL  speak  with  slowness,  Messieurs,  for 
while  I  know  the  English  well,  yet  it  is  in 
French  I  think  more  easily,  and  at  times 
find  it  difficult  to  discover  an  equivalent  for  some 
native  phrase.  This  you  will  pardon,  for  the  in- 
cidents I  am  about  to  relate  are  most  vivid  to  my 
memory.     To  forget  would  be  impossible. 

I  am  Philip  Dessaud,  an  officer  of  Chausseurs, 
but  for  five  years  past  detailed  by  the  military 
authorities  to  experiments  in  aviation.  These 
have  been  conducted  largely  at  Nice,  yet  my  work 
has  compelled  me  to  visit  both  Italy  and  Eng- 
land. Were  it  not  for  my  established  reputation 
in  these  three  great  countries  I  might  hesitate  to 
relate  the  strange  adventure  which  has  befallen 
me  here  on  my  first  visit  to  America.  Yet  the 
word  of  Philip  Dessaud  is  surely  sufficient.  In 
France  I  speak  with  authority  in  aeronautics,  and 
even  in  America  my  achievements  are  to  some 


10  THE  AIR  PILOT 

extent  known.  Very  well;  I  can  address  you 
then  in  all  frankness  as  a  gentleman  of  established 
veracity. 

A  year  and  a  half  ago  I  first  placed  in  opera- 
tion the  machine  since  known  as  the  Dessaud 
Monoplane.  While  entirely  of  my  own  inven- 
tion, yet  its  method  of  operation  is  a  guarded  se- 
cret of  the  government.  The  details  I  cannot 
reveal.  All  I  am  at  liberty  to  say,  is  that  it 
requires  but  a  single  operator,  can  rise  within 
a  space  of  one  hundred  feet,  and  possesses  suffi- 
cient lifting  power  to  transport  a  rapid  fire  gun 
and  ample  ammunition.  I  mention  this  as  it  was 
originally  designed  for  war  purposes.  The  en- 
gine is  small,  exceedingly  light  in  weight,  but  of 
remarkable  power,  and  practically  silent  in  oper- 
ation. During  experimental  trials  in  France  I 
have  twice  made  cross-country  flights  approxi- 
mating one  hundred  miles,  the  last  time  carrying 
with  me  two  passengers.  This  is  of  official  rec- 
ord.    You  know  of  the  truth,  Monsieur? 

Hadley,  of  whom  the  question  was  directly 
asked,  nodded  in  affirmation,  but  no  one  inter- 
rupted. 

I  would  have  you  realize  all  this,  the  narrator 


VOICE  IN  THE  TELEPHONE      11 

continued,  or  otherwise  you  might  doubt  the  truth 
of  what  I  am  about  to  tell  you.  I  had  no  thought 
of  visiting  America,  and  only  did  so  under  di- 
rect orders  of  the  French  War  Office,  in  response 
to  a  special  request  from  the  Consul  at  Chicago. 
The  latter  made  all  arrangements,  rented  suita- 
ble property,  where  privacy  could  be  assured,  and 
had  a  hangar  constructed  in  readiness  for  our 
arrival.  The  machine  was  shipped  from  Paris, 
via  the  French  Line,  in  charge  of  two  expert  me- 
chanics, detailed  from  the  army.  These  were 
thoroughly  reliable  men,  who  could  be  implicitly 
trusted  to  guard  the  secrets  intrusted  to  them. 
In  addition  the  consul  was  to  furnish  American 
watchmen  to  patrol  the  grounds  both  night  and 
day.  You  see,  Messieurs,  while  France  was 
ready  to  demonstrate  what  she  had  accomplished, 
yet  she  would  guard  her  discoveries  with  care. 
These  were  my  orders. 

It  was  in  the  afternoon  I  reached  Chicago,  and 
drove  first,  in  what  you  call  a  taxi,  to  where  the 
monoplane  was.  The  consul  was  with  me,  and 
for  an  hour  I  examined  everything,  testing  the 
work  of  the  mechanics,  and  satisfying  myself  the 
machine  was  in  perfect  condition,  and  well  pro- 


12  THE  AIR  PILOT 

tected.  All  was  to  my  liking ;  at  any  time,  within 
five  minutes,  I  could  be  in  the  air,  confident 
against  failure.  With  enthusiasm  I  shook  hands 
with  both  De  Vigne  and  Ramon,  my  assistants, 
and  departed  for  the  hotel  to  which  I  had  been 
directed.  Success  was  apparently  already  as- 
sured; I  had  no  doubt,  no  question.  It  was  in 
this  confident  spirit  of  victory  I  parted  with  the 
Consul,  hoping  to  rest  a  few  hours  after  my  long 
journey.     Sacre!    'T  is  a  strange  world ! 

My  suite  was  high  up,  overlooking  the  great 
lake,  and  I  lit  a  cigarette,  and  sat  by  the  window 
alone  looking  out.  At  first  it  was  the  stretch 
of  water,  glinting  in  the  sun  which  held  my  at- 
tention, and  the  boats  visible  against  the  horizon ; 
then  I  noted  the  aviation  camp  amid  the  green 
of  the  park  below,  and  became  absorbed  in  its 
contemplation.  It  was  to  me  a  fascination,  and 
I  dreamed  of  what  the  week  would  reveal  to  these 
American  aviators  That  I  should  fail  was  not 
possible;  confidence  in  myself,  and  in  my  ma- 
chine was  supreme.  I  smiled  in  happiness  at 
what  was  before  me. 

It  was  then  my  telephone  rang.  Startled  by 
a  sudden  fear  lest  something  had  gone  wrong  at 


VOICE  IN  THE  TELEPHONE      13 

the  hangar,  I  crossed  the  room,  and  grasped  the 
receiver. 

"Hello,"  I  said,  in  the  American  fashion. 

It  was  unmistakably  a  woman's  voice  that  an- 
swered, a  peculiarly  soft  musical  voice.  Even  in 
my  first  surprise  I  was  aware  of  its  fascination. 

"Is  this  you,  Philip?" 

"That— that  chances  to  be  my  name — yes,"  I 
responded  hesitatingly.  "Yet,  surely  you  are 
mistaken." 

"I  think  not,"  and  it  seemed  to  me  I  could  de- 
tect an  accent  of  pride  in  the  swiftly  spoken 
words.     "This  is  certainly  Suit  I  54?" 

"I  believe  so — yes:  but  really—*" 

She  interrupted  me  with  a  short  laugh. 

"Oh,  hush,  I  beg.  Of  course  I  understand 
you  have  no  desire  to  advertise  your  presence 
abroad,  yet  that  is  no  reason  why  you  should  deny 
your  identity  to  me.  Besides,  I  must  see  and 
talk  with  you  at  once." 

"But  truly,"  I  protested  earnestly,  "I  do  not 
know  with  whom  I  am  speaking." 

"Really.  This  is  most  droll.  You  do  not  rec- 
ognize my  voice?" 

"I  regret  not,"  I  admitted  gallantly.     "It  is 


U  THE  AIR  PILOT 

most  musical;  not  to  be  easily  forgotten,  yet 
awakens  no  memory." 

She  laughed  again. 

"Then  the  very  mystery  should  appeal  to  you. 
But  really  I  hardly  believe  you  so  ignorant.  Are 
there  so  many  ladies  calling  you  up  that  you  can- 
not tell  one  from  another?" 

"There  are  none — not  one;  it  is  that  which 
makes  me  believe  this  all  a  mistake." 

"And  I  am  convinced  otherwise.  It  is  the 
room,  and  the  name.  You  will  know  me  when 
we  meet,  so  let  us  not  waste  time.  You  will  see 
me,  surely?" 

There  was  just  enough  anxiety  in  the  tone  to 
stimulate  my  interest. 

"It  is  of  importance?" 

"To  me — yes.  I  must  talk  with  you  at  once, 
alone.  There  are  reasons  why  we  should  not  be 
seen  together,  and  I  cannot  explain  over  a  tele- 
phone." 

"The  parlor,"  I  suggested. 

"Oh,  no,  no,"  hastily.  "That  would  be  far  too 
public.  I  am  talking  to  you  now  from  a  public 
booth,  and  it  is  not  safe  for  us  to  be  seen  together 
— at  least  about  the  hotel." 


VOICE  IN  THE  TELEPHONE      15 

"I  cannot  comprehend — " 

* 'Which  convinces  me  that  you  really  do  not 
recognize  my  voice,"  she  hastily  interrupted. 
"If  I  should  tell  you,  you  would  understand  in 
an  instant.  But  I  dare  not  venture;  no  one 
knows  in  America  who  may  be  on  the  line. 
Please  be  gallant  enough  to  grant  my  request. 
Surely  you  cannot  be  afraid  of  a  woman?" 

"It  is  not  fear,"  I  protested  indignantly.  "If 
Mademoiselle  truly  knows  me  then  she  must  be 
aware  that  I  have  never  lacked  daring.  Yet  this 
is  strange,  mysterious,  and  I  know  not  the  mean- 
ing.    Can  you  not  give  me  some  clue?" 

"I  prefer  not,"  and  I  thought  there  was  laugh- 
ter in  the  voice.  "Your  surprise  will  be  greater 
when  we  meet,  and  I  would  be  where  I  can  see 
the  expression  on  your  face.  You  will  make  the 
appointment?" 

"Where,  and  when?" 

"In  front  of  the  Art  Building,  as  soon  as  it  is 
dusk." 

"I  do  not  know  the  place." 

"Easily  enough  found — the  doorman  will  tell 
you;  not  five  minutes  walk  up  Michigan  Ave- 
nue." 


16  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"But,"  I  protested,  "how  will  I  know?  how 
will  I  recognize  you  as  the  lady?" 

"By  my  face,  of  course,"  and  this  time  she 
laughed  outright.  "Have  I  not  told  you  we  are 
old  acquaintances?  How  dare  you  doubt  my 
word.  But  wait ;  to  remove  even  this  fear  I  will 
promise  to  dress  in  gray,  and  wear  a  bunch  of 
violets  at  my  belt.  Is  not  this  enough  to  establish 
my  identity?" 

"Yes— but— " 

"Oh,  enough  of  that,"  impatiently.  "This 
hesitating  is  not  at  all  natural.  If  I  did  not  know 
there  could  be  no  mistake  I  would  almost  believe 
I  was  talking  to  a  stranger.  Surely  you  never 
before  refused  the  request  of  a  lady;  do  not  begin 
now.     You  will  be  there?" 

"Yes,"  I  acknowledged. 

"Such  a  man.  The  answer  is  half-hearted. 
However  I  accept  even  that,  but  only  to  make  you 
regret,  and  teach  you  a  lesson  in  gallantry. 
Adieu  then,  until  dusk  at  the  Art  Building.  You 
will  not  fail?" 

"You  have  my  word." 

"Which  I  accept;  meanwhile  I  will  busy  my- 
self in  thinking  up  some  fit  punishment  for  your 


VOICE  IN  THE  TELEPHONE      17 

forgetfulness  of  an  old  friend.    I  would  make 
the  punishment  fit  the  crime." 

The  words  ended  in  a  musical  laugh,  and,  after 
listening  a  moment  longer,  I  hung  up  the  receiver, 
and  lit  a  cigarette.  As  I  stood  there  alone  gazing 
about  the  silent  apartment  the  oddness  of  the  oc- 
currence obsessed  me.  Somehow  while  the  wom- 
an's voice — vibrant,  young — responded  to  mine  it 
all  seemed  natural  enough;  but  now  that  it  had 
ceased  to  fascinate  with  its  vague  suggestion  of 
good  humor,  suspicion  swept  over  me.  Who 
could  she  be?  For  what  purpose  could  she  have 
called  me  on  the  wire?  Walking  the  floor  I 
racked  my  brain  vainly  for  any  recollection  of  a 
voice  such  as  hers  among  all  my  list  of  acquaint- 
ances. It  was  of  the  kind  once  heard  never  to 
be  forgotten — soft,  vibrant,  musical,  tingling 
ever  with  suppressed  merriment — a  peculiar 
voice,  full  of  character.  In  my  imagination  I 
could  almost  dream  the  woman  who  could  possess 
such  a  voice.  I,  to  whom  expression  was  always 
a  revelation,  could  never  have  heard  this  woman 
speak,  and  fail  to  remember. 

Yet  if  she  was  a  stranger  why  should  she  be 
seeking  me?     Why  conceal  her  identity?     My 


18  THE  AIR  PILOT 

suspicion  was  aroused,  and  I  could  not  but  recall 
the  warning  given  me  by  my  government  before 
I  sailed.  Yet  the  very  memory  of  her  laughter 
echoing  along  the  wire,  the  good  humor  of  her 
badinage,  served  to  overcome  all  doubt.  The  sort 
of  woman  I  pictured  her  could  never  be  the  se- 
cret agent  of  either  Germany  or  England.  The 
very  conception  was  repugnant.  Besides  what 
had  I  to  fear?  I  bore  on  my  person  no  papers 
of  importance,  and  I  could  go  to  this  meeting 
armed,  prepared  at  any  instant  to  defend  my- 
self if  others  appeared,  or  treachery  manifested 
itself.  Moreover  the  whole  affair  smacked  oddly 
of  adventure,  to  me  ever  an  irresistible  attrac- 
tion. I  was  impelled  to  see  the  woman  of  the 
voice :  to  thus  learn  if  she  was  also  the  woman  of 
my  dreams.  It  was  the  choice  of  a  Frenchman, 
and  a  soldier. 

I  scarcely  know  how  the  hours  passed,  only 
that  I  rested,  reading  a  little,  and  reflecting 
much.  A  light  lunch  was  served  me  in  my  rooms 
by  a  pleasant-faced  German  waiter,  with  whom 
I  conversed  in  his  native  tongue,  and  so  soon  as 
darkness  began  to  obscure  the  lake,  I  descended 
in  the  elevator,  more  eager  than  ever  to  learn 


VOICE  IN  THE  TELEPHONE      19 

what  was  destined  to  befall  me  at  the  rendezvous. 
As  the  moment  approached  my  heart  beat  fast  in 
anticipation,  yet  it  was  with  coolness  I  had  pre- 
pared for  any  emergency,  and  stepped  forth  upon 
the  street  pavement  with  every  nerve  braced,  and 
alert.  Whether  this  was  to  be  love  or  war  I  was 
ready. 


CHAPTER  III 

BEAUTY   IN   DISTRESS 

IT  was  like  some  Parisian  boulevard,  that 
Michigan  Avenue,  with  the  park  on  the  one 
side,  and  great  buildings  blazing  with  lights . 
upon  the  other,  while  between,  glistening  in  the 
glow  of  electric  clusters,  an  endless  stream  of 
motor  cars  glided  noiselessly  along  the  smooth 
pavement.  The  wide  walk  was  thronged  with 
pedestrians,  interested  in  the  aviation  camp,  or 
strolling  idly  through  the  summer  night,  the 
women  richly  dressed,  the  men  in  somber  colors. 
It  was  a  scene  of  enchantment,  ever  changing,  yet 
continually  brilliant  in  the  glow  of  multi-colored 
lights. 

The  doorman  gave  me  directions,  and  I  drifted 
into  the  throng  moving  northward,  so  entertained 
by  my  neighbors  as  to  almost  forget  for  the  mo- 
ment the  nature  of  my  quest.  Yet  it  was  but  a 
short  walk,  not  over  three  blocks  I  presume,  when 

I  found  myself  opposite  what  must  be  the  Art 

20 


BEAUTY  IN  DISTRESS  21 

Building,  a  notable  edifice  of  stone  standing  alone 
in  the  open.  Assured  of  this  by  questioning  a 
passer-by,  I  picked  my  way  across  through 
speeding  vehicles,  and  approached  the  steps,  my 
mind  again  centered  on  this  special  adventure. 
There  were  several  women  near  by,  some  with 
escorts,  but  a  few  unattended  in  the  strange  free- 
dom accorded  the  sex  in  this  country. 

Unable  to  distinguish  between  these  I  saun- 
tered the  full  length  of  the  building,  and,  still  in 
doubt,  returned  toward  the  entrance,  without  hav- 
ing ventured  to  address  anyone.  Two  or  three 
of  the  women  were  apparently  waiting  the  ap- 
pearance of  some  expected  companion,  and 
glanced  at  me  curiously,  yet  none  of  these  met 
my  ideal  of  her  who  had  spoken  to  me  through 
the  medium  of  the  'phone.  Nor  did  they  wear 
the  violets  of  recognition. 

In  the  shadow  of  the  further  lion,  however,  one 
stood  motionless,  barely  discernible.  I  must 
have  passed  her  by  unseeing  on  my  first  trip,  but 
as  I  returned  more  slowly,  my  eyes  searching  the 
gloom  dimly  perceived  the  outlines  of  her  figure. 
Perhaps  I  might  have  passed  her  by  the  second 
time,  but  for  her  own  impatience.     Indeed  I  was 


22  THE  AIR  PILOT 

already  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  tempted  to  aban- 
don the  search,  half  convinced  I  was  the  victim 
of  a  hoax,  when  she  took  a  step  forward  into  the 
light.  The  sudden  movement  attracted  my  at- 
tention, and  the  first  hurried  glance  revealed  the 
violets  at  her  belt.  Beyond  this  I  saw  nothing 
clearly,  only  to  realize  that  the  face  below  the 
wide  brim  of  the  hat  was  young,  and  the  lady 
petite.  Her  eyes  were  not  upon  me,  yet  there 
could  be  no  mistake,  and  I  lifted  my  hat,  and 
bowed.  She  stood  still  in  evident  surprise,  her 
eyes  swiftly  searching  my  face. 

"You  mistake — "  she  began,  but  I  interrupted : 

"Pardon  me  if  that  be  true,  yet  I  think  not. 
You  wear  the  violets,  Mademoiselle,  which  were 
to  be  the  sign  of  my  recognition,"  and  I  pointed 
at  her  belt.  "Indeed  I  am  sure  now  that  you 
have  spoken,  for  there  cannot  be  two  such  voices 
in  the  world." 

"But — but  you  are  not  Philip  Houser.  It  was 
not  you  to  whom  I  spoke." 

I  began  to  see  light,  to  understand. 

"It  was  a  mistake  then;  I  thought  as  much,"  I 
said  regretfully.  "Yet,  Mademoiselle,  what 
could  I  do  ?     You  called  me  Philip,  which  is  also 


BEAUTY  IN  DISTRESS  23 

my  name — Philip  Dessaud,"  and  again  I  bowed 
with  all  respect.     "It  was  you  who  insisted." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  attempted  to  explain,  her 
voice  trembling,  her  gloved  hands  clasped.  "I 
— I  was  so  sure.  And  you  were  in  I  54,  were 
you  not?" 

"Certainly;  that  is  my  suite." 

"Since  when?" 

"It  must  be  from  three  o'clock  this  afternoon, 
Mademoiselle." 

Her  eyes  fell,  then  glanced  up  again  into  my 
face. 

"It  is  indeed  a  mistake — such  a  curious  one," 
she  began.  "You  must  listen,  and  believe  me. 
I  do  not  in  the  least  blame  you;  as  a  gentleman 
you  could  do  no  less,  for  you  could  not  know  but 
what  the  message  was  from  some  friend.  It  is 
all  my  own  fault,  my  own  carelessness.  He  was 
there — Philip  Houser — in  Suite  I  54  this  morn- 
ing. I  read  the  name  on  'the  register.  I — I 
went  there  seeking  him,  but  lacked  the  courage 
at  that  time  to  speak.  I  cannot  explain  this 
now,  nor  will  you  ask.  You  are  a  gentleman,  I 
am  sure,  or  I  could  not  speak  even  as  freely  as 
I  do.     You  respect  my  silence?" 


24  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"Most  assuredly;  you  need  only  tell  me  to  go, 
Mademoiselle." 

"No;  that  is  not  my  meaning.  I  wish  to  ex- 
plain, to  make  clear  the  nature  of  my  mistake; 
only  there  are  conditions  I  cannot  confide  to  a 
stranger.  I — I  am  not  specially  a  friend  of 
Philip  Houser,  merely  an  acquaintance,  a  busi- 
ness acquaintance.  We  have  not  met  for  two 
years,  yet  there  was  a  reason  why  I  should  see 
him  now,  a  reason  of  importance.  Yet  I  was 
uncertain  how  my  appeal  would  be  met,  and  hes- 
itated. It  was  not  until  late  this  afternoon  that 
I  finally  gained  courage,  and  going  into  a  public 
booth  called  his  room  at  the  hotel." 

"You  called  him  Philip." 

"He  is  of  an  age  to  permit  that;  besides  we 
were  at  school  together." 

"Yet  the  voice  which  answered  was  a  strange 
one. 

"Some  voices  are  never  natural  over  the  wire, 
and  his  was  changing  when  I  last  heard  it.  Be- 
sides I  was  so  sure  suspicion  never  once  entered 
my  mind." 

"That  might  be  possible." 

"Might  be,"  the  tone  expressive  of  indigna- 


BEAUTY  IN  DISTRESS  25 

tion,  her  eyes  flashing  into  mine.  "Do  these 
words  imply  doubt  ?  If  so  there  remains  nothing 
more  for  me  to  relate." 

"By  no  means;  you  misunderstand.  I  believe 
all  you  say,  and  merely  questioned  to  better  clear 
the  affair  up  in  my  own  mind.  Odd  as  this  meet- 
ing has  been,  we  can  be  friends,  can  we  not?" 
Impelled  by  some  sudden  impulse  I  held  out  my 
hand. 

Her  face  was  toward  the  light,  and  I  could 
perceive  the  change  of  expression.  There  was 
an  instant  of  hesitancy ;  then  her  gloved  hand  met 
mine  firmly. 

"I  would  be  a  prude  not  to  say  yes,"  she  re- 
sponded frankly.  "Although  I  cannot  let  you 
dream  that  I  ever  contemplated  such  a  thing. 
This  is  all  an  accident — a  most  unfortunate  acci- 
dent so  far  as  it  concerns  me — yet  I  can  congrat- 
ulate myself  that  it  is  no  worse.  I  have  confi- 
dence that  you  are  a  gentleman." 

I  bowed,  still  retaining  the  small  hand,  and 
conscious  of  the  almost  wistful  look  as  her  eyes 
met  mine. 

"I  am  Philip  Dessaud,"  I  said  simply,  "an  of- 
ficer of  the  French  army." 


26  THE  AIR  PILOT 

She  drew  a  quick  breath,  apparently  of  sur- 
prise. 

"Why,  I  have  heard  the  name  before;  you — 
you  are  the  aviator?" 

"Yes,  Mademoiselle,"  with  a  smile,  "and  it  is 
surely  something  not  to  be  entirely  unknown." 

"If  all  I  have  read  be  true  it  is  much  more  than 
that,"  she  responded  quickly.  "They  say — the 
newspaper  writers — that  your  discoveries  will 
revolutionize  flying.  Of  course,"  she  added  has- 
tily, "as  a  woman  I  know  about  such  things  only 
in  the  most  superficial  way." 

"And  the  suppositions  of  the  newpaper  men 
have  yet  to  be  proven  by  experiment,"  I  confessed 
good  humoredly.  "The  end  of  the  week  will  tell 
the  tale." 

"And  I  shall  be  so  interested  now  in  your  suc- 
cess— just  from  this  little  meeting,  this  brief  ac- 
quaintance. What  small  happenings  change  our 
outlook  on  life." 

"Do  you  call  this  small,  Mademoiselle?  I  have 
begun  to  view  it  as  of  importance.  Perhaps  it  is 
because  you  see  it  with  other  eyes — beautiful  as 
I  imagine  them  to  be — that  you  still  refrain  from 
telling  me  whom  I  am  addressing?" 


BEAUTY  IN  DISTRESS  27 

She  withdrew  her  hand,  but  with  a  gentleness 
that  left  no  sting,  stepping  back  a  little,  so  as  to 
come  within  the  shade  of  the  stone. 

"You  possess  the  French  gift  of  compliment, 
Monsieur,"  and  her  voice  had  in  it  the  old  accent 
of  laughter.  "I  am  not  sure  it  meets  my  ap- 
proval. However,  I  shall  be  fair  with  you — I 
am  Helen  Probyn." 

"Not  of  the  English  Probyns,  in  Kent?  I 
have  been  at  their  manor-house." 

"No  such  luck;  while  I  may  be  a  sixteenth 
cousin,  who  knows,  the  very  best  I  can  claim  is 
an  ancestral  home  on  the  coast  of  Maine.  No, 
Monsieur,  I  abominate  pretense,  and  if  you  ac- 
cept me  at  all  it  will  have  to  be  as  a  very  com- 
mon individual — 'unknown,  unhonored,  and  un- 
sung.' " 

"Which  statement  I  believe,  or  not,  as  I 
please." 

"No,"  decisively.  "You  must  accept  my  word. 
I  am  simply  an  atom  in  the  great  sea  of  life — a 
working  girl." 

"A  working  girl,"  I  mocked.  "Your  lan- 
guage, your  dress  betrays  you." 

"You  think  so.     That  is  because  you  judge 


28  THE  AIR  PILOT 

from  the  viewpoint  of  the  European  rather  than 
the  American.  Nevertheless  it  is  true,  Monsieur, 
for,  although  my  work  may  be  of  the  brain  in- 
stead of  the  body,  I  am  still  under  orders.  If 
my  task  is  not  done  I  suffer,  and  am  told  to  go 
and  come,  fetch  and  carry,  just  as  though  I  was 
a  serf  in  the  fields.  In  other  words  I  am  an  em- 
ployee, dependent  on  the  whim  of  my  employer 
for  my  daily  bread.  This  fact  changes  the  whole 
aspect  of  affairs,  does  it  not?" 

"You  mean  my  interest  in  you?" 

"Certainly.  That  is  why  I  have  been  so  frank. 
I  know  your  class  prejudice,  your  point  of  view. 
Over  there  a  great  gulf  is  fixed  between  those 
who  earn,  and  those  with  nothing  better  to  do 
than  spend.  Even  in  America  it  exists  to  some 
extent,  but  with  you  it  is  an  inheritance  of  birth. 
Thinking  me  of  your  own  class  you  became  inter- 
ested in  my  personality;  but  now  that  I  have 
confessed  the  truth  all  your  desire  will  be  to 
politely  say  good  night.  I  prefer  to  antici- 
pate," and  she  extended  her  hand.  "Good  night, 
Monsieur." 

I  held  it  close,  my  heart  beating  more  rapidly. 

"You  think  me  a  snob?" 


BEAUTY  IN  DISTRESS  29 

"Oh,  no,  Monsieur;  merely  what  birth  and 
environment  would  naturally  make  you." 

"But  cannot  a  man,  a  cosmopolitan,  overcome 
such  prejudices?"  I  protested  warmly.  "Even  if 
I  admit  being  born  into  the  class  of  idlers,  yet  my 
life  since  has  thrown  me  much  into  the  society  of 
those  who  work.  I  have  even  learned  to  work 
myself  beside  them,  and  have  turned  toward  them 
for  instruction.  I  have  mechanics  with  me  here 
— common  soldiers  from  the  ranks — who  are  my 
friends." 

"Not  socially,  Monsieur.  That  is  the  point  I 
make." 

"A  distinction  in  your  case  I  refuse  to  admit, 
Mademoiselle.  I  bow  to  your  will — yes.  If  it 
is  to  be  good-by,  I  submit,  but  never  because  I 
deem  you  not  of  my  class,  or  beneath  me  in  any 
way.     You  do  insist?" 

"It  will  be  best.  I  am  sorry,  but  I  am  sure  it 
will  be  best." 

Our  eyes  met,  yet  she  stepped  aside,  and  passed 
me.  It  was  accomplished  with  such  quiet  decision 
that  I  failed  for  the  instant  to  grasp  the  truth. 
But  one  fact  impressed  itself  upon  me — those 
eyes  which  had  been  lifted  to  mine  were  misty 


30  THE  AIR  PILOT 

with  tears.  She  was  in  trouble,  in  distress,  and 
yet  she  was  leaving  me.  In  that  second  of  time 
all  suspicion,  all  doubt  left  my  mind,  and  I  be- 
came conscious  of  a  new  respect  for  this  girl,  a 
new  desire  to  serve  her.  Whoever  she  was,  how- 
ever strange  our  meeting,  I  could  not  let  her  pass 
out  of  my  life  like  this.  In  obedience  to  the  first 
swift  impulse,  I  crossed  the  broad  walk,  and 
touched  her  arm. 

"You  shall  not  disappear  like  that,"  I  ex- 
claimed. "I  am  enough  of  a  fatalist  to  accept 
destiny.     You  will  tell  me  all." 

"All?" 

"Yes,  there  were  tears  in  your  eyes  as  you 
turned  away.  You  had  held  them  back  as  long 
as  it  was  possible.  It  was  only  because  you 
could  restrain  yourself  no  longer  that  you  left  so 
hastily." 

"Oh,  please—" 

"No.  I  am  going  to  say  what  I  think.  You 
are  in  trouble,  some  real,  desperate  trouble.  That 
was  why  you  ventured  to  call  upon  this  old-time 
acquaintance,  Houser.  Blindly  seeking  help, 
you  had  found  his  name  on  the  hotel  register,  but 
at  first  lacked  courage  to  approach  him.     When 


BEAUTY  IN  DISTRESS  31 

you  finally  did  call  up  by  telephone  he  had  left 
the  room,  and  you  got  me.  Isn't  this  the 
truth?" 

"I — I — why  do  you  insist  upon  my  answer- 
ing? You  have  no  right  to  question  me  in  this 
way." 

"Not  if  it  was  idle  curiosity;  but  I  wish  to  as- 
sure you  my  motive  is  far  higher  than  that.  For- 
get how  we  have  met — it  was  no  fault  of  either 
of  us — and  believe  me  a  gentleman.  To  my  mind 
the  first  duty  of  gentleness  is  to  relieve  a  woman 
in  distress.  I  claim  the  privilege.  Surely  you 
will  trust  me?    You  will  not  refuse?" 

She  stood  with  head  bowed,  her  face  hidden  in 
the  shadows. 

"You — you  are  too  kind,"  she  stammered.  "I 
— I  do  not  know  what  to  say." 

"Which  is  a  confession  itself.  My  guess  then 
is  not  far  wrong?  It  was  because  of  trouble — 
your  own  trouble — that  you  sought  an  interview 
with  Houser?" 

"Yes." 

"And  when  you  discovered  a  mistake  had  been 
made  you  were  desperate?  You  did  not  know 
what  to  do?" 


32  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"Yes." 

"And  you  left  me  just  now  because  you  could 
stand  the  strain  no  longer?  You  realize  that  you 
must  confess  everything,  or  else  go  away?" 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  mine. 

"That  is  true— yes." 

"Then  that  is  what  you  are  going  to  do,"  and 
I  held  out  my  hands. 

"What?"  ' 

"Trust  me  as  a  friend,  and  make  full  confes- 


sion." 


She  made  no  movement  to  give  me  her  hands, 
but  stood  motionless  with  eyes  on  my  face. 

"But — but  how  can  I?"  she  questioned  doubt- 
fully.   "I — I  do  not  know  you." 

"Years  of  acquaintance  have  little  to  do  with 
friendship,"  I  insisted.  "I  wish  to  serve  you  hon- 
estly, and  in  all  kindness.  Surely  you  will  not 
refuse  merely  on  the  plea  of  our  short  acquaint- 
ance— you  are  far  too  sensible  a  girl." 

I  felt  the  warm  clasp  of  her  fingers,  and  knew 
she  was  crying  softly. 

"I  would  be  idiotic  if  I  did,"  she  responded, 
her  voice  trembling  in  spite  of  every  effort  at  con- 
trol.    "It  is  not  because  I  am  afraid  of  you;  not 


BEAUTY  IN  DISTRESS  33 

because  it  is  unconventional,  Monsieur.  I  have 
advanced  beyond  that  stage  in  life.  I  do  what  I 
deem  to  be  right  without  being  troubled  by  the 
opinion  of  others.  There  were  two  reasons  which 
have  kept  me  from  confiding  in  you—pride,  and 
a  hesitancy  to  involve  a  stranger  in  my  trouble." 

"Forget  the  word  stranger." 

"You  compel  me  to;  I  will  not  use  it  again. 
Shall  I  tell  you  everything?" 

"That  will  be  best ;  then  no  fresh  mistake  is  pos- 
sible." 

She  drew  a  deep  breath,  the  heavy  lashes  hiding 
her  eyes. 

"I — I  am  hungry,"  she  confessed,  almost  in  a 
whisper.  "That  is  the  bitter  truth,  Monsieur; 
I  have  not  eaten  since  yesterday." 

I  stared  at  her,  too  surprised  for  immediate 
speech. 

"You  do  not  believe?" 

"Yes,  but  it  is  so  strange ;  I  can  hardly  realize 
the  possibility.  You  must  go  with  me  to  some 
restaurant  at  once,"  and  my  eyes  searched  the 
electric  signs  opposite.  "The  story  can  wait. 
Where  shall  we  go?" 

She  tried  to  smile,  yet  trembled  so  that  her 


34  THE  AIR  PILOT 

fingers  clasped  my  sleeve.     The  slight  pressure 
appealed  even  more  strongly  than  her  words. 

"That — that  is  good  of  you.  I  cannot  talk 
until  I  have  food;  it  is  the  reaction  which  makes 
me  so  weak;  the — the  knowledge  that  I  have 
found  a  friend." 


CHAPTER  IV 

UNCOVERING  A  CONSPIRACY 

I  HAVE  small  recollection  of  where  we  went, 
only  it  was  not  far,  but  involved  a  ride  in 
an  elevator.  Not  until  we  were  seated  op- 
posite each  other  at  a  small  table  did  I  really  have 
intelligent  view  of  my  companion.  As  I  glanced 
across  at  her,  while  ordering  from  the  extensive 
bill  of  fare,  I  was  conscious  of  a  newly  awakened 
interest.  Not  beautiful,  perhaps  not  even  pretty, 
if  judged  by  accepted  standards,  my  vis-a-vis  was 
certainly  most  attractive,  a  slender  girl  of  medium 
height,  with  dark  eyes  and  hair,  the  former 
thoughtful  and  a  bit  dreamy;  the  latter  most 
abundant  and  glossy.  Her  face  was  white,  but 
the  skin  clear,  and,  as  she  turned  her  head  to  look 
at  the  occupants  of  the  other  tables,  I  could  but 
observe  the  well-modeled  features,  expressive  of 
character  and  high  breeding.  Whatever  she 
might  claim  to  be — child  of  the  farm,  girl  of  the 
working  class — her  appearance,  as  well  as  her 

35 


36  THE  AIR  PILOT 

language,  bespoke  ancestry  and  social  standing. 
I  confess  this  discovery  was  to  me  a  relief,  and 
I  must  have  exhibited  my  feeling  by  some  un- 
conscious outward  sign,  for  the  lady  glanced 
across  at  me  questioningly. 
"What  is  it,  Monsieur?" 
"You  will  laugh  if  I  tell  you,"  I  replied  un- 
easily. 

"Then  tell  me,  pray,  for  I  want  an  excuse." 
"I  have  been  looking  at  you  for  the  first  time 
in  the  light,  and  approve  wholly." 

"Indeed,"  her  eyes  dancing.  "That  is  nice,  but 
a  confession  that  previously  you  were  somewhat 
doubtful." 

"Why,  yes ;  you  see  you — " 
"Oh,  I  know,"  leaning  forward,  so  to  speak 
more  softly.  "You  have  been  troubled  by  my 
humble  origin;  my  confession  of  having  to  work 
for  a  living.  You  began  to  fear  you  were  in  con- 
tact with  one  of  the  lower  classes.     And  now?" 

"The  thought  will  never  again  occur,  Made- 
moiselle. I  am  convinced,  converted.  In  Amer- 
ica it  is  not  as  in  France,  in  Europe ;  or  is  it  that 
you  work  from  love  of  art?  because  the  soul  as- 
pires?" 


UNCOVERING  A  CONSPIRACY    37 

She  laughed  at  this  heartily,  with  white  teeth 
gleaming  between  red  lips,  and  eyes  dancing. 

"Not  so  poetical:  no!  no!"  a  little  gesticulation 
of  the  hands,  now  ungloved,  but  showing  white 
and  ringless.  "It  is  very  prosaic,  my  work,  and 
its  main  purpose  is  the  purchase  of  bread  and  but- 
ter.    Were  you  ever  in  need,  Monsieur?" 

"Not  as  you  mean — what  you  call  'broke';  I 
have  been  hungry — yes;  and  thirsty.  On  cam- 
paign one  suffers  often,  and  I  have  also  been  lost 
in  African  forests,  and  nearly  perished.  But 
money!  't  is  true  I  have  always  possessed  that." 

"Then  you  know  nothing  of  what  it  really 
means  to  be  born  poor;  to  have  to  struggle  from 
early  childhood  for  every  luxury,  almost  every 
necessity;  to  have  to  earn  your  own  schooling, 
working  while  your  classmates  play,  and  then,  at 
graduation,  accepting  the  first  offer  of  employ- 
ment That  has  been  my  life,  Monsieur,  and  it  is 
not  an  uncommon  one.  It  does  not  seem  to  me  I 
was  ever  a  little  girl,  for  I  can  scarcely  remember 
back  to  a  time  when  I  was  not  burdened  by  re- 
sponsibilities." She  paused,  leaning  her  head 
on  her  hands,  but  still  with  eyes  on  my  face.  "It 
is  all  right  to  talk  of  art  and  ambition,  but  some 


38  THE  AIR  PILOT 

lives  must  learn  early  to  put  such  dreams  aside, 
and  front  the  stern  realities  of  existence,  thank- 
fully accepting  what  the  gods  send." 

"You  have  dreamed,  however;  it  is  written  in 
your  face." 

"Oh,  yes!  I  would  not  be  human  else,"  wear- 
ily. "I  have  dreamed,  but  the  achievement  has 
been  nil." 

"Hardly  that,"  I  insisted,  more  interested  than 
ever  in  this  personality  being  so  frankly  revealed. 
"A  worthy  dream  is  of  itself  an  achievement. 
What  form  did  yours  take?" 

"Literature,"  and  her  lips  smiled.  "Is  n't  it  a 
joke!  With  all  my  ambitions  the  nearest  to  it  I 
ever  really  attained  was  employment  on  a  news- 
paper." 

"And  now?" 

She  spread  her  hands  with  expressive  gesture. 

"I  appeal  to  a  stranger  for  a  meal — yet,  if  his- 
tory tells  truth,  poverty  is  one  of  the  evidences  of 
genius,  more  especially  poetical.  Possibly  I  am 
about  to  'arrive.' " 

She  spoke  so  lightly  that  I  failed  to  appre- 
ciate the  soberness  of  appeal  underlying  her 
words. 


UNCOVERING  A  CONSPIRACY    39 

"I  am  no  judge  in  such  matters,"  was  all  I 
could  think  to  reply.  "Being  an  army  man  my 
life  is  too  intensely  practical  for  dreams.  I  sim- 
ply obey  orders,  and  just  now  that  is  also  your 
duty." 

"Indeed!  with  you  in  command?" 

"Temporarily,  at  least.  See,  here  is  our 
waiter." 

"Oh,  if  it  be  only  to  eat,  you  will  find  me  a  most 
obedient  servant.  But  I  insist  upon  sharing  with 
you — I  am  quite  generous." 

"And  I  accept,"  adapting  myself  to  her  hu- 
mor. "You  will  not  find  me  backward,  for  I 
only  indulged  in  a  light  lunch.  It  is  distressing 
to  eat  alone." 

"And  I  never  find  it  distressing  to  eat  either 
alone  or  in  company."  She  waited  in  silence  until 
the  waiter  departed. 

"And  you  are  really  Philip  Dessaud?"  she  ques- 
tioned. 

"There  is  no  doubt  as  to  that." 

"I  don't  suppose  you  realize  what  that  fact 
could  mean  to  me  professionally,  if  I  was  base 
enough  to  turn  your  friendship  into  money?" 

"Professionally !     What  do  you  mean  ?" 


40  THE  AIR  PILOT 

She  was  eating  with  relish,  yet  paused  to  an- 
swer. 

"Did  I  not  confess  I  had  been  a  newspaper 
woman?" 

I  nodded,  wonderingly. 

"And  I  am  still,  in  a  way.  In  fact  this  is  my 
only  present  means  of  livelihood,  and  you,  Mon- 
sieur, embody  the  one  great  mystery  in  town." 

"Surely  not,"  yet,  even  as  I  protested  a  faint 
suspicion  came  to  me. 

"What  I  say  is  true,  however.  Every  city  edi- 
tor in  town  has  assigned  his  star  men  to  interview 

you." 

"For  what  cause?" 

"To  learn  if  possible  some  hint  of  the  new  dis- 
coveries embodied  in  your  aeroplane,  of  course." 

"But  none  have  called  upon  me,"  I  said,  unbe- 
lieving, "so  this  cannot  be  true." 

She  laughed,  her  eyes  suddenly  uplifted  again 
to  my  face. 

"And  you  do  not  suspect  why?  Then  let  me 
tell  you,  Monsieur.  The  French  consul  left  strict 
orders  that  you  were  not  to  be  disturbed.  He 
foresaw  all  this,  and  prepared  for  it.  Tomor- 
row you  will  find  your  box  crammed  full  of  re- 


UNCOVERING  A  CONSPIRACY    41 

porters'  cards,  and  notes  beseeching  interviews. 
I  discovered  the  situation  before  you  had  ever 
registered." 

"You !  this  is  a  new  revelation." 

"And  my  last,"  speaking  rapidly,  and  leaning 
across  the  table,  so  her  words  should  not  carry  be- 
yond me.  "Now  listen,  do  you  understand  why 
I  am  going  to  tell  you  this?" 

"No,  although  I  do  not  in  the  least  comprehend 
what  'this'  may  be." 

"Well,  it  is  serious  enough,  and  my  reason  is 
that  I  am  a  woman,  and  like  you.  That  is  cause 
enough.  But  first  let  me  ask  you  a  question — 
why  do  you  guard  the  secret  of  your  invention  so 
closely?" 

"It  is  not  my  secret,  Mademoiselle,"  I  replied 
soberly.     "It  belongs  to  France." 

"Ah,  I  see;  that  explains  what  I  wanted  to 
know,  and  gives  me  my  excuse  for  speaking 
frankly.  This  then  is  an  international,  and  not 
simply  a  local  newspaper  affair."  She  leaned 
her  face  on  her  hands,  a  little  frown  making  crease 
between  her  eyes.  "So  I  am  a  mere  catspaw  to 
pull  their  chestnuts  out  of  the  fire.  I  began  to 
suspect  as  much  this  afternoon.     The  story  will 


42  THE  AIR  PILOT 

interest  you,  Monsieur;  you  may  despise  the  nar- 
rator, but  I  am  disposed  to  risk  that.  Shall  I  go 
on?" 

While  I  said  nothing,  my  eyes  must  have  an- 
swered for  me,  for,  with  a  slight  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  she  continued  slowly: 

"I  am  a  special  writer  on  the  Press,  Monsieur, 
and  while  it  is  true  I  was  very  hungry  when  I  met 
you,  that  hunger  arose  from  deliberate  starvation, 
and  not  because  I  lacked  means  with  which  to 
procure  food.  There  was  no  Philip  Houser; 
that  was  all  a  he  told  for  the  purpose  of  making 
your  acquaintance.  Do  you  despise  me  for  the 
deceit?" 

"Not  necessarily,"  I  returned  briefly.  "To 
tell  the  truth,  also,  I  have  half  suspected  this 
from  the  first,  although  I  know  little  of  Ameri- 
can newspaper  methods." 

"Then  I  will  tell  you.  They  are  bad  enough, 
but  this  goes  even  deeper.  I  have  every  reason 
to  believe,  Monsieur,  that  there  is  a  conspiracy 
against  your  government  of  which  I  was  to  be 
made  the  unconscious  tool,  under  the  guise  of 
newspaper  enterprise.  Do  you  know  a  German 
by  the  name  of  Brandt?" 


[UNCOVERING  A  CONSPIRACY    43 

"Not  in  this  country — no.  Such  a  man  was 
once  under  arrest  in  Marseilles." 

"And  escaped,  did  he  not  ?  He  belonged  to  the 
secret  service?" 

"Yes ;  I  was  not  there,  but  my  captain  saw  and 
described  him  to  me — a  large  man,  with  round 
face,  wearing  spectacles;  oh,  yes,  and  a  broken 


nose." 


"Now  wearing  also  a  closely  trimmed  beard. 
He  was  in  our  office  yesterday,  and  after  he  left 
the  city  editor  assigned  me  to  this  case." 

"Ah!  and  the  editor?" 

"Is  German  also;  his  name  is  Schmitt.  But, 
perhaps,  I  had  better  explain  everything  as  it 
occurred." 

"That  will  give  me  clearer  understanding." 

"And  require  but  a  moment.  I  was  alone  in 
the  reporters*  room  yesterday  when  this  man 
came  in.  He  asked  for  Schmitt  by  name,  and, 
there  being  no  boy  present,  and  as  he  said  he 
called  by  appointment,  I  took  in  his  card ;  it  read 
simply  Johann  Brandt.  The  city  editor  jumped 
up  at  once,  and  came  out  and  shook  hands  with 
him,  taking  him  into  the  private  office,  and  clos- 
ing the  door.     Then  he  put  out  his  head  again 


44  THE  AIR  PILOT 

to  say  he  was  not  to  be  interrupted.  Their  greet- 
ing was  in  German,  which  I  do  not  understand 
well,  but  I  am  sure  Schmitt  called  his  visitor  Cap- 
tain.    Could  that  be?'* 

"Brandt  was  at  one  time  in  the  army,  I  be- 
lieve, as  an  officer." 

She  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"He  walks  straight  like  a  soldier,  and  Schmitt 
told  me  once  he  served  in  the  German  army. 
That  must  be  how  they  knew  each  other.  Of 
course  after  the  door  was  closed  I  heard  nothing ; 
indeed  felt  no  interest,  but  went  on  with  my  work. 
They  were  together  for  half  an  hour,  and  when 
they  came  out  were  still  talking  earnestly  in  Ger- 
man. Schmitt  went  with  him  to  the  stairs,  and 
stood  watching  his  visitor  descend.  When  he 
came  back,  he  looked  all  around  carefully,  as 
though  to  make  sure  we  were  alone,  and  then 
asked  me  into  his  room,  and  closed  the  door.  I 
stood  beside  the  desk  waiting,  while  he  fumbled 
over  some  papers,  and  my  eyes  chanced  to  de- 
cipher among  them  a  draft  on  a  Berlin  bank, 
made  out  to  Emil  Schmitt  for  a  thousand  dollars. 
Before  I  could  see  more  he  had  shoved  it  out  of 
sight,  under  some  copy  paper,  and  was  giving  me 


UNCOVERING  A  CONSPIRACY    45 

orders,  pretending  to  read  from  the  assignment 
book." 

She  paused  a  moment,  wetting  her  lips  with  a 
sip  of  claret,  while  I  waited  silently* 

"He  told  me  about  your  machine,  where  the 
hangar  was,  and  how  it  was  guarded.  He  gave 
me  the  number  of  your  suite  at  the  hotel,  and 
knew  all  about  the  orders  of  the  Consul.  It  was 
plain  that  ordinary  newspaper  methods  of  ap- 
proach would  be  vain,  and  he  suggested  and  out- 
lined the  plan  I  followed  in  making  your  ac- 
quaintance. To  me,  at  the  time,  it  was  merely  a 
professional  matter,  Monsieur — I  was  sent  out  by 
the  Press  to  gain  information  of  interest  to  its 
readers.     You  understand?" 

"Perfectly,"  and  I  held  out  my  hand  to  her 
across  the  table.  "However,  your  tale  is  of  in- 
terest." 

Her  face  lighted  up,  and  there  was  greater  con- 
fidence in  the  tone  of  her  voice. 

"I  am  glad  you  can  say  that,  and  show  you 
mean  it,"  she  said  eagerly,  and  her  fingers  clasped 
mine  just  for  an  instant.  "I — I  was  actually 
afraid  you  might  think  me  a  sneak,  a  spy.  I  am 
not,  but  did  my  part  innocently.     Yet,  Monsieur, 


46  THE  AIR  PILOT 

I  began  to  doubt  the  fairness  of  this  assignment 
the  moment  I  came  out  of  that  office.  There 
were  three  things  so  peculiar  as  to  attract  my: 
attention — the  German  draft,  the  fact  that  I 
was  not  told  to  write  a  line  for  the  paper  regard- 
ing my  discoveries,  and  that  all  I  was  required 
to  do  was  to  form  your  acquaintance,  and  then 
induce  you  to  accompany  me  to  a  designated 
place." 

"There  was  to  be  no  interview?  no  question- 
ing?" 

"Not  by  me.  My  understanding  was  Schmitt 
proposed,  attending  to  that  himself.  All  he 
expected  of  me  was  to  induce  you  to  appear 
where  he  was.  I  was  to  be  the  stool-pigeon; 
that  was  what  made  me  rebellious  and  suspicious 
of  the  whole  affair.  It  was  only  womanly  curi- 
osity which  led  me  to  go  this  far,  and  newspaper 
instinct,  perhaps.  I  wanted  to  uncover  the 
story,  and,  incidentally,  discover  what  sort  of 
man  you  are." 

"And  now,  Mademoiselle?" 

She  was  the  one  to  extend  her  hand  frankly. 

"Now  I  am  on  your  side,"  she  said  gravely. 
"That  is  if  you  will  accept  of  such  an  ally. 


UNCOVERING  A  CONSPIRACY    4? 

You  need  not  hesitate,"  she  added  swiftly,  "be- 
cause I  am  a  woman,  for  I  can  be  of  assistance, 
I  know.  You  are  a  stranger  here,  while  I  am 
acquainted  with  every  street  and  alley." 

I  gazed  into  her  face,  unconsciously  noting 
its  youthful  enthusiasm,  and  then  about  the 
room  crowded  with  guests.  I  could  hardly 
comprehend  the  seriousness  of  the  situation,  yet 
my  mind  was  busy  with  details.  There  was  no 
reason  why  I  should  not  accept  her  statement, 
or  share  in  her  suspicions.  I  had  been  warned 
before  I  left  France,  and  was  fully  aware  of  the 
precautions  taken  at  our  military  aviation  meets 
to  prevent  discoveries  by  English  and  German 
agents.  Beyond  doubt  I  had  been  followed 
across  the  water,  and  the  importance  of  the 
quest  was  evidenced  by  Brandt's  being  detailed 
to  this  service.  He  was  a  trusted  agent  of  his 
government,  with  high  rank  in  the  secret  serv- 
ice, and  it  was  not  likely  he  was  alone.  Indeed, 
I  already  had  proof  of  their  careful  espionage 
in  the  fact  that  they  knew  all  my  plans,  and  had 
arranged  this  trap.  What  should  I  do  now  I 
was  forewarned?  Should  I  ignore  the  conspir- 
acy,  or  boldly   confront  the  conspirators?     It 


48  THE  AIR  PILOT 

was  the  soldier  in  me  that  responded,  for  I  was 

never  a  diplomat. 

"This  was  not  the  place,  then,  where  you  were 

to  take  me?'* 

"No,  Monsieur;   that  was  the   Cafe  Fran- 
•  »> 

COIS. 

"A  French  restaurant?"  in  surprise. 

"In  name,  and  pretense,  only.  Schmitt  prob- 
ably believed  you  would  be  more  easily  induced  to 
go  there.  The  place  is  not  of  high  repute,  and  is 
conducted  by  an  Italian  with  a  French  chef.  I 
have  never  been  there,  but  am  told  the  other 
employees  are  a  motley  set.  What  do  you  think 
is  best  to  do?" 

"You  are  willing  to  trust  yourself  with  me?" 

"Absolutely,"  and  her  eyes  met  mine.  "I 
know  a  man  when  I  meet  one." 

"Then,"  and  I  smiled  genially,  "we  will  visit 
the  Cafe  Francois.  May  I  be  permitted  to 
smoke,  Mademoiselle?" 


CHAPTER  V 

AT  THE  CAFE*  FRANCOIS 

2 

WE  walked  as  the  distance  was  not 
great,  and  neither  of  us  had  any 
desire  to  attract  attention,  both 
realizing  that  the  result  of  our  adventure  might 
prove  unpleasant.  Indeed  I  rather  regretted 
my  decision,  but  lacked  courage  to  confess  as 
much  while  my  companion  remained  silent.  I 
do  not  know  the  streets  traversed,  but  as  I  re- 
member we  proceeded  for  a  block  away  from 
the  lake  front,  and  then  turned  south.  The 
lady  spoke  but  once  of  her  own  volition,  and 
made  very  brief  replies  to  my  efforts  at  being 
entertaining.  It  was  after  we  had  walked 
south  some  distance,  and  pedestrians  had  be- 
come fewer,  that  she  asked  suddenly: 

"You  are  armed,  Monsieur?" 

"Yes;  you  anticipate  trouble?" 

"Hardly  that,  but  it  is  well  to  be  prepared. 
I  have  heard  unpleasant  stories  of  the  place,  and 

49 


50  THE  AIR  PILOT 

I  do  not  know  the  exact  character  of  the  men 
you  are  seeking." 

"Brandt  has  the  reputation  in  Europe  of  be- 
ing equal  to  any  expedient  to  attain  his  ends,"  I 
said  quietly.  "Perhaps  that  is  why  I  am  rather 
anxious  to  cross  swords  with  him.  This  man 
Schmitt  is  an  unknown." 

"Schmitt!  Oh,  he  will  he  content  with  a 
silent  part.  There  is  no  danger  of  his  getting 
in  the  way  oi  any  harm.  But  there  are  prob- 
ably otherjs  here  under  Brandt's  orders." 

"Likely  enough,  although  he  usually  prefers 
to  operate  alone." 

There  was  a  pause  during  which  I  glanced 
aside  at  the  contour  of  her  face  through  the  haze 
of  my  cigar. 

"Do  you  regret  coming?"  I  asked  finally, 
almost  hoping  she  did.  "For  if  so  we  can  turn 
back.  Really  it  is  nothing  to  me;  principally 
a  curiosity  to  see  the  fellow." 

She  turned  her  face  up  to  look  at  me  in  sur- 
prise. 

"I!  Why  certainly  not.  You  do  not  under- 
stand, Monsieur,  the  newspaper  instinct.  This 
looks  to  me  like  a  good  story,  and  I  would  n't 


AT  THE  CAFE  FRANCOIS        51 

lose  my  chance  at  writing  it  for  the  world  and 
getting  a  scoop." 

"Oh,  then  I  am  to  comprehend  your  interest 
is  altogether  professional,  Mademoiselle?  That 
is  not  flattering." 

She  laughed,  her  hand  pressing  my  sleeve. 

"It  is  far  better  for  you  to  think  that  than  be 
deceived.  Surely  you  could  not  expect  me  to 
fight  to  preserve  a  French  secret?" 

"My  hope  was  a  personal  one  rather,"  I  ven- 
tured recklessly.  "That  you  might  have  some 
interest  in  a  Frenchman." 

"Why  of  course  I  have.  I  confess  I  wish  you 
to  win;  perhaps  I  may  even  help  you,  if  I  see  a 
way  clear;  of  course,"  she  added  mischievously, 
"if  it  does  n't  endanger  my  job." 

"Your  what,  Mademoiselle?" 

"My  position;  you  must  remember  this  play 
is  about  to  be  staged  in  the  presence  of  my  city 
editor.  It  therefore  behooves  me  to  act  well  my 
part,  and  preserve  a  strict  neutrality.  You 
must  not  expect  too  much." 

"But  you  are  more  than  a  reporter." 

"You  would  not  think  so,  if  you  had  to  live 
on  my  salary." 


52  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"That  is  not  my  meaning — you  are  also  a 
woman." 

"Why  remind  me  of  that  misfortune!  The 
newspaper  game  is  the  one  place  where  sex  is 
forgotten — except  as  occasionally  good  bait  for 
an  interview.  Oh,  no,  Monsieur,  while  I  wish 
you  well  in  this  night's  adventure,  I  am  to  be 
a  non-combatant,  to  count  only  as  a  mere  looker 
on  in  Vienna!" 

As  suddenly  the  light  raillery  in  her  voice 
changed  to  a  tone  of  seriousness. 

"Of  course  circumstances  might  arise  to  cause 
the  woman  to  overcome  the  reporter.  One 
never  knows,  and  there  are  times  when  I  fail  to 
understand  myself.  Do  you  speak  Spanish, 
Monsieur?" 

"Indifferently;  just  sufficient  to  get  along  in 
Madrid,"  I  answered,  surprised  at  the  quick 
change.     "Why  do  you  ask  that?" 

"Because  there  might  be  occasion  for  us  to 
exchange  words  unknown  to  the  others.  If  so, 
remember  I  speak  the  tongue.  It  may  prove 
of  value." 

"Then  you  must  really  mean  that  I  can  rely 
upon  you  in  an  emergency." 


AT  THE  CAFE  FRANCOIS        53 

i 

"I  have  made  no  promise;  rather  it  is  more 
the  nature  of  a  warning,  because  you  have  re- 
minded me  that  I  was  more  than  a  reporter.  A 
woman,  you  know,  is  a  strange  combination. 
This  is  the  Cafe  Francois." 

Outwardly,  at  least,  the  place  appeared  re- 
spectable enough,  the  front  brilliantly  lighted, 
but  the  interior  scene  obscured  by  clouded  glass. 
Besides  the  main  swinging  doors,  there  was  a 
smaller  one  with  "Ladies'  Entrance"  lettered  on 
it,  and  we  entered  through  this,  finding  our- 
selves in  a  narrow  hall,  leading  directly  to  a 
rear  room.  This,  while  evidently  not  the  main 
dining-hall,  was  sufficiently  large  and  commodi- 
ous, containing  tables  of  varying  sizes  prepared 
for  guests,  and  a  few  booths  arranged  for  pri- 
vacy. Many  of  the  tables  were  occupied,  and 
noise  and  loud  voices  proclaimed  the  presence  of 
a  convivial  set.  A  piano  played  furiously,  and 
on  one  side  of  the  room,  in  a  vacant  space,  a  few 
couples  were  dancing. 

"Table,  sir?" 

"Yes,"  the  lady  answered  for  me.  "The  small 
one  next  the  wall,  please." 

As  we  were  being  seated,  and  the  waiter  left  us 


54  THE  AIR  PILOT 

to  find  a  printed  menu,  she  leaned  across  to  whis- 
per swiftly: 

"We  must  order  something — any  trifle,  with 
drinks.  Our  party  is  at  the  next  table  to  the 
right.  Don't  look;  let  them  make  the  first 
move." 

I  glanced  at  them  as  I  scanned  the  bill,  order- 
ing a  salad  with  a  bottle  of  champagne.  There 
were,  somewhat  to  my  surprise,  four  in  the  party, 
two  unmistakably  German,  the  others  not  so 
easily  classified.  Directly  fronting  us,  and  hence 
facing  the  door,  was  a  tall,  rather  cadaverous 
person,  with  iron-gray  hair,  hollow  cheeks,  and 
light-colored  mustache,  his  blue  eyes  partly  con- 
cealed by  heavy  glasses.  Mentally  I  decided 
this  must  be  Schmitt,  although  he  was  hardly 
the  type  I  anticipated.  Beside  him  sat  a 
younger  man,  very  debonair  in  appearance,  with 
red  cheeks,  and  pink  and  white  complexion. 
He  was  doing  most  of  the  talking,  describing 
some  incident  on  shipboard  in  excellent  English, 
while  the  others,  apparently  interested  in  his  re- 
cital, were  leaning  forward,  forgetful  of  their 
meal.  The  faces  of  the  two  with  backs  toward 
me  were  hidden,  but  one  was  large,  with  almost 


AT  THE  CAFf  FRANCOIS        55 

i 

colossal  shoulders,  and  a  dark  beard  closely 
trimmed.  I  noticed  how  upright  he  sat  in  his 
chair  in  contradistinction  to  the  other,  a  small 
sandy-haired  fellow  with  waxed  mustache,  and 
long,  thin  neck.  I  contented  myself  with  a  single 
glance,  deciding  instantly  that  the  larger  indi- 
vidual was  Brandt,  and  feeling  only  slight  inter- 
est in  the  others.  He  was  the  one  to  watch  and 
fear,  and  I  knew  instinctively  he  was  likely  to 
prove  himself  no  mean  antagonist.  I  remember 
feeling  amused  at  the  soberness  of  Miss  Probyn's 
watchful  eyes  as  my  gaze  returned  to  her  face. 
The  adventure  was  beginning  to  be  entertaining, 
and  I  was  already  confident  enough  of  its  final 
outcome  to  feel  slightly  amused. 

"Do  you  recognize  the  others?  "  I  asked  softly. 

She  shook  her  head  negatively;  then  said 
slowly  in  Spanish. 

"Do  you  understand?  Yes;  then  listen,  but 
do  not  answer  in  English.  The  younger  man 
is  a  reporter  on  one  of  the  German  papers,  but 
I  have  never  before  seen  the  fellow  sitting  be- 
side Brandt.  Has  Schmitt  appeared  to  notice 
me  yet?" 

"No;  he  is  listening  to  the  story." 


56  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"All  make-believe;  the  whole  four  saw  us  when 
we  came  in.  They  will  begin  the  game  in  a  min- 
ute. Don't  be  surprised  at  anything  I  may  do, 
Monsieur,  and  keep  your  eyes  and  ears  open." 

We  sat  there  sipping  our  wine,  and  convers- 
ing carelessly.  As  her  back  was  toward  the 
other  table,  I  easily  kept  them  in  view,  but  could 
observe  no  sign  that  we  had  been  recognized. 
Finally  the  German  reporter  excused  himself 
and  withdrew,  passing  our  table  without  so  much 
as  a  glance,  yet  he  had  scarcely  disappeared,  be- 
fore Schmitt  stepped  across  the  narrow  aisle,  and 
spoke  to  my  companion. 

"Why,  Miss  Probyn,"  he  exclaimed,  his 
slight  foreign  accent  barely  perceptible.  "This 
is  the  last  place  I  would  expect  to  meet  you. 
However,  all  the  greater  pleasure,"  and  he  ex- 
tended his  hand,  smiling  genially  behind  his 
glasses.  "You  have  met  Captain  Brandt?  No! 
Oh,  then,  permit  me — Captain  Brandt,  Miss 
Probyn,  and — ah,  Herr  Franzen,  of  Berlin,  Miss 
Probyn — old  friends  from  the  Fatherland,  in- 
dulging in  reminiscences,  inspired  by  the  na- 
tional beverage,"  and  he  swept  a  glance  over  the 
half-emptied  steins  littering  the  table.     "Ger- 


AT  THE  CAFE  FRANCOIS        57 

mans  are  Germans  the  world  over,  you  know.     I 
• — I  think  I  have  never  met  your  friend." 

She  was  standing  facing  them,  and  I  also 
arose  to  my  feet. 

"My  friend,"  she  said  pleasantly,  "  happens  to 
be  traveling  incognito,  so  names  do  not  count  for 
much — Mr.  Gray,  of  Boston,  gentlemen." 

Brandt  was  the  picture  of  courtesy,  bowing 
politely,  while  not  a  change  of  expression  ap- 
peared on  his  somewhat  stolid  face.  Schmitt's 
pale  blue  eyes  sought  those  of  the  girl  in  a  swift 
questioning,  but  Herr  Franzen,  his  face  red- 
dened by  drink,  was  evidently  in  an  ugly  mood, 
and  glared  at  me  without  acknowledgment. 

"Huh!"  he  snapped,  twisting  his  waxed  ends 
insolently,  "Champagne;  our  new  friend  must 
be  a  millionaire." 

"The  wine  is  paid  for,"  I  replied,  holding  my 
temper,  "and  another  bottle  will  be  ordered  if 
Messieurs  will  join  with  us?" 

"Messieurs!  Bah!  I  smelt  a  Frenchman  at 
the  first  whiff." 

"Be  quiet,  Franzen,"  and  Brandt  gripped  the 
drunken  fool  none  too  gently.  "Sit  down  and 
hold  your  tongue.     Your  pardon,  Monsieur," 


58  THE  AIR  PILOT 

and  he  turned  to  me  smilingly.  "This  fellow  is 
always  most  patriotic  when  sodden  with  beer, 
but  it  is  the  case  of  a  barking  dog.  We  will 
join  you  with  pleasure,  only  I  insist  on  giving 
the  order.  Draw  up  your  table  next  to  ours." 
Willing  enough  to  permit  affairs  to  shape 
themselves  I  accepted  the  exchange  of  places. 
The  lady's  eyes  flashed  warning  into  mine,  but  I 
felt  little  need  of  the  admonishment.  While  be- 
yond doubt  Franzen  had  been  drinking,  yet  he 
was  not  drunk,  but  was  deliberately  exaggerating 
his  condition.  For  what  purpose?  either  to 
throw  me  off  my  guard,  or  else  to  provoke  a 
quarrel.  His  insolence  was  part  of  a  well  con- 
ceived plot;  these  fellows  were  here  with  a  pre- 
arranged plan,  a  concerted  purpose  in  view,  yet 
I  could  only  sit  quiet  watching  for  the  card  to 
be  played  next.  The  delay  was  not  a  long  one, 
although  we  conversed  idly  over  the  wine,  which 
Franzen,  however,  refused  to  touch,  leaning 
back  in  his  chair  and  glowering  across  at  me. 
I  chose  to  ignore  him  utterly,  directing  my  en- 
tire conversation  at  Brandt,  whose  individuality 
interested  me  at  once.  Here  was  the  man  I 
must    measure    swords    with.     Nevertheless    I 


Brandt  gripped  him  none  too  gently 


AT  THE  CAFlS  FRANCOIS        59 

made  no  attempt  to  probe  the  man,  contenting 
myself  with  the  commonplace;  it  was  Miss  Pro- 
byn,  taking  advantage  of  her  sex,  who  ventured 
personal  questions. 

"Are  you  really  an  officer  of  the  German 
Army,  Captain  Brandt?"  she  asked  innocently. 
"I  am  so  interested." 

"Not  at  present — no,"  he  acknowledged 
frankly.  "Indeed,  I  am  seldom  called  Captain 
any  more  except  by  old  comrades.  Schmitt 
here  and  I  served  together,  but  it  is  ten  years 
since  I  resigned  from  the  army."  His  response 
was  in  English,  scarcely  marred  by  the  slightest 
accent. 

"Not  in  government  service  then?" 

"No,"  indifferently,  yet  with  a  swift  glance  at 
her  face  across  the  table.  "Traveling  alto- 
gether for  pleasure,  and  renewing  old  acquaint- 
ances." 

"In  these  days  I  presume  you  meet  with  a 
good  many  in  America,"  I  interposed  carelessly. 

"They  are  scattered  about  everywhere.  I  ran 
into  Schmitt  here  merely  by  accident.  Had  n't 
seen  him  before  for  twenty  years  until  yester- 
day.    'T  is  not  so  with  your  countrymen,  Mon- 


60  THE  AIR  PILOT 

sieur — they   do   not   scatter   as   the   Germans." 

"Taking  it  for  granted  I  am  French." 

"I  supposed  that  was  admitted,"  laughingly. 
"Really  nationality  has  little  weight  with  me, 
Monsieur.  I  have  lived  under  so  many  flags 
that  I  am  a  true  cosmopolitan.  Herr  Franzen, 
here,  remains  intensely  patriotic,  but  I  have 
learned  long  ago  that  manhood  has  no  race  lines. 
Am  I  to  understand  you  desire  to  remain  in- 
cognito?" 

"Certainly  not;  that  was  merely  a  joke  of  Miss 
Probyn's." 

"Then  it  will  be  my  privilege  to  name  you  to 
my  friends." 

"You  recognize  me?" 

"Of  course.  I  have  traveled  widely  in 
France,  and  have  even  visited  the  aviation 
ground  at  Nice.  Your  presence  in  Chicago  is 
no  secret,  and  pictures  of  you  have  frequently 
appeared  in  the  newspapers  of  Paris  and  Berlin. 
I  recognized  you  at  once — gentlemen,"  and  he 
glanced  about  at  the  others,  "the  distinguished 
aviator,  Lieutenant  Dessaud." 

Knowing  what  I  did  this  byplay  was  most 
amusing.     I  even  ventured  to  smile  aside  at  Miss 


AT  THE  CAFlE  FRANCOIS        61 

Probyn,  while  acknowledging  this  new  intro- 
duction with  a  bow,  but  the  good  humor  felt  did 
not  in  the  least  throw  me  off  my  guard.  That 
Brandt  was  a  secret  agent,  specially  detailed  to 
learn  all  he  could  relative  to  my  monoplane,  was 
beyond  discussion.  Directly,  or  indirectly,  the 
other  two  men  with  him,  were  also  interested 
to  the  same  end.  How  highly  important  my 
discoveries  were  rated  was  evidenced  by  the 
amount  of  money  already  paid  Schmitt  merely 
to  arrange  this  apparently  accidental  meeting. 
It  alone  was  proof  positive  that  Brandt  was  pre- 
pared to  go  far  to  attain  his  ends.  Nor  was  he 
one  to  waste  effort.  The  present  masquerade 
of  good-fellowship  was  only  a  step  in  some  pre- 
arranged plan,  an  effort  to  make  me  feel  at  ease. 
What  that  plan  was  I  could  not,  as  yet,  even 
guess,  yet  dimly  I  connected  its  revealment  with 
the  disappearance  of  the  German  reporter,  and 
the  pretended  drunkenness  of  Franzen.  The 
latter  was  so  poor  an  actor  I  was  compelled  to 
suspicion  him,  but  not  by  so  much  as  a  glance 
in  his  direction,  did  I  reveal  my  suspicions  to  his 
chief.  But  the  fellow  was  not  content  to  re- 
main unnoticed.     He  struck  the  table  with  one 


62  THE  AIR  PILOT 

hand,  tipping  over  a  half -filled  glass,  in  an  en- 
deavor to  attract  attention. 

"Dessaud!  Dessaud!"  he  repeated,  hic- 
coughing the  name  derisively.  "Bah!  I've 
heard  of  him ;  he 's  got  a  damn  toy.  Who  ever 
heard  of  a  French  mechanic?" 

"I  think  the  world  has  heard  of  several,"  I 
answered,  surprised  at  this  outbreak,  yet  hold- 
ing my  temper,  "and  the  toy  flies." 

"How  about  Rheims?  Did  it  fly  then,  Mon- 
sieur Frenchman?" 

"A  plane  broke;  accidents  are  always  pos- 
sible." My  glance  fell  upon  the  man's  extended 
hand ;  it  was  that  of  a  mechanic,  with  stubby  fin- 
gers, and  close  clipped  nails.  So  he  was  the  ex- 
pert.    "You  have  such  even  in  Germany." 

"Maybe  so,"  stubbornly,  "but  your  whole 
principle  is  wrong." 

"What  do  you  know  about  that?" 

"What  do  I  know—" 

Brandt's  hand  gripped  the  fellow's  arm. 

"That 's  enough,  Franzen,"  he  said,  sternly. 
"We  are  not  here  to  discuss  aviation,  or  quarrel 
over  flags.     Finish  your  beer,  and  we  '11  go." 

He  leaned  closer  to  me,  and  whispered. 


AT  THE  CAFE  FRANCOIS        63 

i 

"We  '11  leave  the  drunken  fool  at  the  hotel. 
I  would  like  a  moment's  quiet  talk  with  you 
somewhere." 

"But  I  am  with  Miss  Probyn." 

"A  brief  appointment  tomorrow  morning  will 
do,  Monsieur.  I  have  a  proposition  to  make 
which  may  be  of  interest,  of  great  interest." 

"I  cannot  imagine — " 

"Of  course  not.  However  it  is  not  a  matter 
to  be  discussed  here.  I  ask  for  only  ten  minutes 
at,  let  us  say,  nine  tomorrow.     Your  hotel?" 

"The  Congress." 

"My  own  also ;  very  convenient.  I  take  it  for 
granted  the  request  is  granted.  Schmitt,  let 's 
get  Franzen  to  bed." 

We  all  arose  together,  and  passed  out  into  the 
rather  narrow  entry-way.  Schmitt  was  talking 
with  Miss  Probyn,  while  Brandt  held  to  Fran- 
zen, thus  leaving  me  for  the  moment  alone.  The 
proposition  for  a  conference  in  the  morning  had 
relieved  me  of  any  fears  for  the  present.  I  must 
wait  till  then  to  learn  more  definitely  what  was 
being  attempted.  Brandt,  by  making  this  en- 
gagement, had  apparently  accomplished  all  he 
desired.     I  had  no  longer  any  reason  to  suspect 


64  THE  AIR  PILOT 

trickery,  or  a  resort  to  violence.  Without  doubt 
the  German  considered  me  approachable,  and 
would  attempt  the  money  argument.  Very 
well  I  would  learn  then  what  he  considered  my 
discoveries  worth,  and  could  laugh  at  him.  The 
thought  restored  me  to  good  humor. 

I  was  chuckling  over  the  situation  when 
Schmitt  and  Miss  Probyn  disappeared  through 
the  swinging  doors  onto  the  sidewalk.  Almost 
at  the  same  instant  these  opened  inward,  and 
the  red-faced  reporter  burst  in  hastily,  coming 
face  to  face  with  Franzen.  I  heard  an  oath,  and 
the  sound  of  a  blow;  someone  toppled  over 
against  me,  forcing  me  to  press  against  the  side 
wall  for  support.  Then  I  was  struck  on  the 
head  from  behind,  and  went  down  like  a  log. 


CHAPTER  VI 

BRANDT  SHOWS   HIS   HAND 

THE  blow  felled  me  flat,  and  I  had  but 
the  vaguest  impression  of  what  was  tak- 
ing place.  While  not  rendered  totally 
unconscious,  yet  my  brain  was  numbed,  and  it 
seemed  impossible  for  me  to  move  a  muscle. 
However,  I  realized,  in  a  dim,  impersonal  way, 
that  I  was  lifted  up,  carried  swiftly  across  the 
walk  outside,  and  thrust  into  a  cab.  I  retained 
a  flickering  recollection  of  Brandt's  face  pressed 
close  to  mine  in  the  glare  of  an  electric  light,  and 
heard  Franzen  laugh  spitefully. 

"He 's  dead  to  the  world,"  said  someone. 
"Turn  on  the  juice,  Carl;  give  her  the  limit." 

Then  my  head  fell  back  on  someone's  shoul- 
der, and  I  lost  all  consciousness.  I  retain  some 
slight  recollection  of  being  aroused  again  when 
the  cab  stopped,  of  far-away  voices  talking,  and 
of  being  lifted  out.  Then  I  lapsed  again  into  to- 
tal darkness.     When  I  awakened  the  second  time 

65 


66  THE  AIR  PILOT 

I  was  lying  half-dressed  on  a  bed.  There  was  no 
light  in  the  room,  but  an  open  doorway  revealed 
a  second  apartment  in  which  lights  were  burn- 
ing. I  saw  no  one,  yet  almost  the  first  sound 
distinguished  was  that  hateful  laugh  of  Franzen. 
It  brought  me  to  an  instant  realization  of  all  that 
had  occurred. 

"  Not  much  reward  for  the  risk,  Captain,"  he 
said  clearly  in  German.  "These  letters  tell  noth- 
ing." 

"We've  got  the  man,  haven't  we?"  was  the 
gruff  answer. 

"Yes,  if  that  is  any  comfort,  but  there  is  no 
proof  that  he  will  talk." 

"You  can  leave  that  to  me;  he'll  either  talk, 
or  not  fly.  Did  Schmitt  say  he  could  n't  speak 
German?" 

"Sure;  that 's  what  the  girl  said.  It  was  her 
business  to  find  out.     You  got  his  gun?" 

"In  the  drawer  there — a  nasty  weapon.  Bet- 
ter look  at  the  fellow  again,  Fritz." 

I  heard  a  chair  pushed  back,  and  lay  flat  with 
my  eyes  closed,  hoping  the  investigator  would 
deem  me  still  unconscious,  and  go  back  to  his 
conversation.     There   was   much    I    desired   to 


BRANDT  SHOWS  HIS  HAND      67 

learn,  and  the  easiest  method  was  to  use  my  ears. 
I  was  surprised  at  the  fellows'  boldness,  their 
resorting  to  the  strong-arm;  this  alone  was  evi- 
dence they  were  acting  under  urgent  orders. 
My  first  theory  that  money  was  to  be  the  appeal 
had  utterly  failed.  They  had  adopted  a  shorter 
and  uglier  means  to  obtain  their  end.  How 
much  farther  would  they  venture,  if  I  proved 
obstinate?  The  prospect  was  not  pleasant,  and 
I  comprehended  my  own  helplessness,  unless  I 
learned  more  of  the  situation.  Yet,  I  confess, 
what  troubled  me  most  was  the  apparent  per- 
fidy of  the  young  woman.  I  had  trusted  her, 
believed  in  her  friendship,  still  it  was  clear 
enough  now  that  she  must  have  deliberately 
lured  me  on  to  this  rough  manhandling,  and  then 
stood  idly  by  while  I  was  being  hustled  away. 
But  did  she?  If  so,  if  she  was  that  sort,  a  willing 
part  of  the  conspiracy,  why  should  she  have  de- 
ceived them  relative  to  my  knowledge  of  Ger- 
man? I  certainly  had  reason  to  bless  her  for 
that. 

All  these  thoughts  flashed  through  my  mind 
as  I  lay  there  with  closed  eyes,  barely  permitting 
myself  to  breathe,  while  Franzen  silently  crossed 


68  THE  AIR  PILOT 

the  room  and  bent  over  me.  It  seemed  as  if  he 
would  never  finish,  as  he  stood  with  fingers  on 
my  wrist  counting  the  pulse,  but  finally,  he  re- 
leased his  grasp  and  turned  away.  Through 
slightly  parted  lashes  I  watched  him  disappear 
into  the  other  room;  then  lifted  my  head  to  lis- 
ten. 

"Still  dead  to  the  world,"  he  reported  shortly, 
and  a  shadow  on  the  wall  told  me  he  had  paused 
to  pour  out  a  drink.  "You  must  have  soaked 
him  good." 

"A  bit  harder  than  I  intended,"  returned 
Brandt  composedly,  "but  it  is  all  right;  he'll 
come  around.  We  '11  give  him  a  half  hour 
more,"  and  I  heard  the  snap  of  his  watch,  "and 
then  try  the  cold  water  cure.  Go  down  and 
call  up  Schmitt  on  the  'phone,  Fritz.  I  want 
to  be  sure  he  has  got  that  girl  safely  corralled." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"Probably  at  the  Press  office  by  this  time,  un- 
less he  has  had  trouble  with  the  woman.  She 
made  some  fuss,  didn't  she?" 

"I  didn't  wait  to  see.  I  was  busy  helping 
you  lug  the  fellow  to  the  cab.  Why  should  she? 
She  was  in  on  the  deal?" 


BRANDT  SHOWS  HIS  HAND      69 

"Only  partly;  I  wanted  Schmitt  to  get  hold 
of  the  right  kind,  and  slip  her  some  coin,  but  I 
guess  he  did  n't  want  to  spare  any.  He  said  she 
did  n't  need  to  know ;  he  'd  make  her  believe  it 
was  a  newspaper  job,  and  she  'd  fall  for  it  easy 
enough.  I  guess  she  did  too,  but  that  strong- 
arm  work  was  pretty  raw,  and  she  didn't  look 
to  me  the  sort  to  stand  quiet.  Did  you  notice 
her  particularly?" 

"Only  that  she  was  a  mighty  pretty  girl,  and 
her  eyes  were  always  laughing." 

"There  was  more  to  them  than  that,  Fritz,  a 
damn  sight  more,  and  there  was  character  in  her 
face.  It  will  take  a  smarter  man  than  Schmitt 
to  make  a  fool  out  of  her.  If,  by  any  chance, 
she  has  taken  a  fancy  to  this  Frenchman,  she  's 
likely  to  make  trouble.  Go  on  now,  and  call 
Schmitt  up,  and  hurry  back;  then  we  '11  stir  up 
Monsieur." 

I  could  perceive  the  fellow's  shadow  as  he 
passed  across  the  outer  room,  and  then  heard  the 
click  of  a  closing  door.  Brandt  remained  silent, 
except  for  the  soft  rustling  of  some  papers,  and 
I  slipped  quietly  out  of  bed.  There  was  light 
enough  to  enable  me  to  find  my  discarded  clothes 


70  THE  AIR  PILOT 

lying  across  a  chair,  and  I  donned  these  gar- 
ments hastily,  pausing  only  to  assure  myself  the 
pockets  had  been  emptied,  only  leaving  me  my 
money.  It  occurred  to  me  suddenly  that  this 
had  been  the  original  purpose  of  the  attack — a 
desire  to  secure  my  papers.  Brandt  would 
naturally  imagine  that  I  would  have  on  my  per- 
son some  memoranda  of  my  invention,  if  not  a 
detailed  sketch.  That  would  be  all  he  would  re- 
quire. Likely  enough  he  merely  expected  to 
rob  me  of  these  papers,  leave  me  in  the  cab,  and 
escape.  But  he  discovered  nothing,  not  so  much 
as  a  scrap,  and  so  was  driven  to  other  extremes. 
Yet  this  very  disappointment  might  lead  to  des- 
perate measures,  and — the  cold  chills  ran  over 
me  as  I  realized  the  truth — no  one  would  ever 
know  into  whose  hands  I  had  fallen.  Even 
should  I  utterly  disappear  no  friend  of  mine 
would  ever  be  able  to  guess  how  it  had  occurred. 
Few  of  them  knew  just  where  I  was  staying. 
Miss  Probyn  alone  possessed  sufficient  knowl- 
edge to  pull  aside  the  curtains,  but  was  she  friend 
or  foe?  Probably  neither;  merely  one  drawn 
unknowingly  into  the  affair,  and  glad  enough 
now  to  slip  quietly  out  of  sight,  when  she  realized 


BRANDT  SHOWS  HIS  HAND     71 

its  seriousness.  My  only  hope  of  escape  lay 
then  in  my  own  efforts. 

I  glided  across  to  the  nearest  window,  which 
was  open,  and  looked  out.  Below  was  a  sheer 
expanse  of  wall,  revealing,  perhaps,  three  stories 
down,  a  dingy  glass  dome  through  which  light 
shown  dimly.  This  would  enclose  the  hotel 
lobby,  but  escape  that  way  was  clearly  impossi- 
ble, the  slight  coping  along  the  wall  barely  two 
inches  wide.  I  sought  in  vain  for  some  weapon, 
but  found  none;  very  well,  if  I  must  fight  my 
way  out  with  naked  hands,  it  would  be  better  to 
have  only  one  antagonist  than  two.  Brandt  was 
a  giant  of  a  man,  and,  no  doubt,  knew  the  game, 
but  I  would  have  more  chance  with  him  alone 
than  I  would  if  he  had  the  assistance  of  the 
mechanic.  I  started  forward,  only  to  crouch 
down  just  inside  the  door.  I  was  already  too 
late — Franzen  had  returned. 

"Well!"  growled  the  chief,  in  no  pleasant  hu- 
mor, "you  took  your  time." 

"I  could  n't  get  a  booth,  and  the  line  was  work- 
ing badly." 

"Cut  that  and  get  to  the  business;  what  did 
Schmitt  say?" 


72  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"He  let  the  girl  go  home;  said  she  was  hyster- 
ical, and  he  was  afraid  to  have  her  around  the 
office.     Sent  her  off  in  a  cab." 
"Where  does  she  live?" 
"I  never  asked." 

"Oh,  hell!  Do  you  call  that  a  head  you  have 
got  on  your  shoulders?  It 's  too  late  now;  we  '11 
have  to  risk  her.  Did  you  see  Eisenbarth  any- 
where about?" 

"He  is  in  the  lobby,  watching  the  elevators." 

"What  did  he  have  to  say?" 

"It 's  all  quiet  out  there.     Kelly  goes  on  guard 

all  right  at  midnight,  but  the  two  Frenchmen 

sleep  in  the  hangar.     One  of  them  drank  heavily, 

but  the  other  would  n't  touch  the  stuff." 

"Just  as  I  sized  it  up,  Fritz,"  the  chief's  tone 
evidencing  better  humor.  "They  told  me  in 
Berlin  that  De  Vigne  could  n't  be  touched,  but 
his  assistant  drank  like  a  fish.  Oh,  well,  one  man 
ought  not  to  be  very  hard  to  handle ;  I  'm  equal 
to  that  myself,"  and  he  struck  the  table  with  his 
fist,  thrusting  back  a  chair  as  he  arose  to  his 
feet.  "Come  on,  let 's  go  in,  and  stir  up  Mon- 
sieur; we  've  got  to  get  action  in  the  next  few 
hours." 


BRANDT  SHOWS  HIS  HAND     73 

There  was  nothing  left  me  to  do  but  fight.  I 
straightened  up,  desperate  and  ready.  Which- 
ever came  first  was  the  man.  I  hoped  it  might 
be  Brandt,  but  in  this  I  was  disappointed.  It 
was  into  Franzen's  face  I  sent  my  clinched  fist, 
hurling  the  fellow  headlong  across  the  room. 
The  next  instant  I  was  at  his  chief,  taking  him 
sufficiently  by  surprise  to  get  in  two  short-arm 
jolts  before  he  gripped  me.  He  had  the 
strength  of  a  gorilla,  and,  although  I  fought  like 
a  fiend  to  break  away,  his  vise-like  fingers  forced 
a  passage  to  my  throat,  and  I  was  borne  back 
choking  for  breath,  with  his  huge  body  holding 
me  prone.  We  fell  in  the  narrow  hall-way,  still 
struggling  madly.  The  outside  door  opened, 
scraping  my  head  as  it  swung,  and  two  men 
leaped  in.  Through  the  mist  darkening  my 
vision  I  saw  one  wore  the  uniform  of  a  bell-boy. 
It  was  the  other,  a  stocky  fellow  with  stubby  mus- 
tache, who  spoke,  dragging  Brandt  off  me,  and 
forcing  him  to  loosen  his  grip  on  my  throat,  as  it 
seemed  to  me  just  in  time. 

"Here  now!  What 's  all  this  mean?  Do  you 
think  you  are  in  a  bar-room?     Let  loose!" 

For  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  speak,  my  swol- 


74  THE  AIR  PILOT 

len  tongue  fairly  choking  me,  but  Brandt 
grasped  the  situation  in  an  instant. 

"It 's  all  right,"  he  said,  handing  out  a  card. 
"I  am  Captain  Brandt,  and  this  is  one  of  my; 
party,"  indicating  me.  "Crazy  drunk,  you  un- 
derstand, and  we  're  trying  to  keep  him  in  the 
room  until  we  can  sober  him  up,  that 's  all.  You 
are  the  hotel  officer?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  more  politely.  "Need  any  help 
handling  the  fellow?" 

"No;  he  '11  be  quiet  enough  now;  there  *s  two 
of  us  here,  only  he  took  us  by  surprise  that  time. 
Sorry  to  have  made  such  a  row." 

He  slipped  a  bill  into  the  officer's  hand,  and 
lifted  me  back  into  a  chair.  I  made  a  desperate 
effort  to  speak,  to  declare  myself,  but  the  words 
would  not  articulate;  I  could  only  pant  pain- 
fully for  breath.  I  saw  the  detective  eyeing  me, 
his  hand  on  the  knob  of  the  door. 

"All  right,  Captain,"  he  said  finally.  "He 
looks  quiet  enough  now;  just  call  me  if  you  need 
any  help.     What's  your  friend's  name?" 

"Von  Eisel — Baron  Von  Eisel;  he  's  not  reg- 
istered here." 

"Oh,  I  see;  well  good  night,  sir." 


BRANDT  SHOWS  HIS  HAND     75 

"Good  night,  officer." 

The  door  closed,  and  Brandt  walked  over  and 
locked  it.  Then  he  came  back,  smiling  broadly, 
and  whirled  me  around  in  the  chair  so  I  would 
face  the  light.  At  the  same  moment  Franzen 
made  his  appearance,  both  hands  pressed  against 
his  eye.  The  woe-begone  look  of  the  fellow  made 
me  smile,  even  as  I  gasped  for  breath.  Brandt 
turned  his  head  to  see  what  had  amused  me,  and 
burst  out  laughing. 

"We  've  learned  something  tonight,  hey, 
Fritz!"  he  said  gayly.  "That  there  is  one 
Frenchman  who  knows  how  to  use  his  fists. 
Where  did  you  master  that  art,  Monsieur?" 

I  shook  my  head,  but  straightened  up  in  the 
chair,  feeling  a  slight  return  of  strength,  and 
with  it  a  new  desire  to  meet  the  issues  squarely. 
At  least  I  meant  to  know  exactly  what  Brandt's 
purpose  was,  and  how  he  proposed  achieving  it. 
Yet  I  had  no  wish  to  assume  the  initiative.  For- 
tunately there  was  no  necessity  for  my  doing  so, 
as  Brandt  was  anxious  to  disarm  me  of  sus- 
picion. Almost  with  his  first  smooth  utterance 
I  grasped  his  intention,  and  determined  to  per- 
mit myself  to  be  persuaded. 


76  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"Go  bathe  your  eye,  Franzen,  while  I  have  a 
talk  with  Monsieur,"  he  said  shortly.  "There  is 
some  misunderstanding,  I  think,"  and  he  turned 
again  to  me,  smoothing  his  ruffled  cuffs.  "What 
did  all  this  attempt  at  violence  mean?" 

"It  rather  occurs  to  me  that  I  am  the  proper 
one  to  ask  that  question,"  I  returned,  rinding  my 
voice  with  difficulty  still.  "I  was  struck  uncon- 
scious, and  then  held  prisoner  here." 

"Oh,  that 's  it!"  he  gave  vent  to  a  short  laugh. 
"Well,  perhaps  your  mistake  is  natural  enough. 
However  the  truth  is  you  were  struck  accident- 
ally in  a  street  fracas,  and  were  brought  here  out 
of  kindness." 

"Then,  I  presume,  I  am  at  liberty  to  depart?" 

"Oh — why;  certainly,  as  soon  as  you  are  ca- 
pable of  looking  after  yourself  alone." 

"Probably  you  retain  my  personal  property 
on  expense  account?" 

"Your  personal  property!" 

"Certainly;  my  revolver,  and  private  letters." 

He  glanced  aside  at  the  table,  nonplused  for  a 
moment,  but  as  instantly  recovering  assurance. 

"Oh,  exactly;  really  do  you  know  I  had  ac- 
tually forgotten.     You  see  they  fell  out  of  your 


BRANDT  SHOWS  HIS  HAND     77 

pockets,  and  we  picked  them  up,"  and  to  my 
surprise  he  swept  the  papers  together,  handed 
them  to  me,  then  opened  a  drawer,  and  gave  me 
the  weapon.  It  was  done  with  such  an  air  of 
good-fellowship  that  I  could  only  stare  at  him, 
my  hand  gripping  the  revolver  butt. 

"Nice  weapon,"  he  commented  easily,  "latest 
automatic  model,  I  see;  I  am  something  of  a 
connoisseur  in  fire-arms ;  acquired  the  taste  in  the 
army.  To  tell  the  truth  I  was  almost  tempted 
to  keep  that  gun,  and  report  to  you  that  it  was 
lost  in  the  skirmish.  Still,  of  the  two,  I  rather 
believe  I  prefer  to  retain  your  confidence.  Fact 
of  the  matter  is,  Dessaud,"  and  he  leaned  back 
comfortably  in  his  chair,  "you  are  about  the  first 
Frenchman  I  ever  cared  to  be  friendly  with." 

"The  form  your  friendship  takes,"  I  com- 
mented sarcastically,  "would  not  prove  a  recom- 
mendation to  many." 

"You  can  scarcely  blame  me  for  protecting 
myself;  remember  you  were  the  aggressor." 

It  was  sufficiently  plain  that  his  present  pur- 
pose was  to  win  my  confidence.  Unaware  that 
I  had  overheard  his  indiscreet  conversation  with 
Franzen,  he  preferred  to  substitute  diplomacy 


78  THE  AIR  PILOT 

to  force.  Under  the  circumstanced  I  could  do 
nothing  better  than  encourage  the  effort.  How- 
ever there  was  no  apparent  reason  why  I  should 
not  call  his  hand,  and  be  blunt  about  it. 

"All  right,  let  it  go  at  that,"  I  said  quietly. 
"And  now,  Brandt,  what  is  it  you  want?  I 
am  not  simple  enough  to  believe  all  this  is  an 
accident.  If  there  is  any  understanding  to  be 
come  at,  state  your  purpose.  I  '11  answer  you 
promptly  enough." 

"That  sounds  like  a  declaration  of  war." 

"Whether  peace  or  war  depends  on  your  de- 
mands." 

"Well!"  he  exclaimed,  losing  the  grip  on  his 
temper.  "It  makes  small  odds  to  me  which,  if 
you  want  to  know.  You  are  going  to  give  up 
one  way  or  the  other,  my  fine  fellow,  and  I  don't 
give  a  sou  markee,  whether  I  talk  with  money  or 
fists." 

"Try  money  first,"  I  suggested,  eager  to  have 
my  value  stated.     "That  will  be  easier." 

He  stared  at  me  in  perplexity,  my  cool  de- 
meanor a  surprise,  and  unable  to  determine 
whether,  or  not,  my  proposition  was  made  in 
earnest.     Without  doubt,  however,  he  had  been 


5 


BRANDT  SHOWS  HIS  HAND     79 

accustomed  to  dealing  with  men  who  were  for 
sale,  and  my  willingness  to  be  approached  con- 
vinced him  I  belonged  to  the  same  class  and  could 
be  bribed  if  he  offered  enough. 

"I  can  offer  $20,000  American  gold,"  in  a 
whisper,  leaning  closer. 

"And  protection?" 

"Certainly ;  a  little  private  matter  between  you 
and  me." 

"I  do  not  trust  Franzen,"  appearing  to  hesi- 
tate. 

"That  need  n't  interfere;  I  '11  send  him  out  on 
some  errand,  and  telephone  for  a  public  stenog- 
rapher to  be  sent  up  here.  She  will  take  down 
what  you  have  to  say,  and  will  never  understand 
a  word  of  it.  When  typed  we  '11  pay  her  to  de- 
stroy the  notes.     That  will  protect  all  parties." 

"What  is  it  you  want — exactly?" 

"A  technical  description  of  your  machine,  de- 
scribing accurately  wherein  it  differs  from  the 
ordinary  type.  I  am  not  an  expert,  but  I  know 
enough  of  such  matters  so  as  not  to  be  deceived." 

"You  represent  your  government?" 

He  nodded,  now  thoroughly  convinced  of 
success,  and  no  longer  disguising  his  eagerness. 


80  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"Then  you  can  offer  more — the  secret  is  worth 
more,"  I  said  calmly,  realizing  my  surrender 
must  not  be  too  sudden. 

He  lit  a  cigarette,  studying  my  face  intently 
as  he  did  so.  My  own  mind  was  in  something  of 
a  chaos.  Was  it  necessary  for  me  to  remain  and 
negotiate  with  the  fellow?  With  the  revolver  in 
my  possession  why  could  I  not  force  my  release? 
Some  suspicion  halted  me,  for  Brandt's  very 
coolness  left  me  with  a  vague  feeling  that  the 
man  was  not  alone,  that  I  was  still  completely  in 
his  power.  One  of  his  hands  was  in  the  pocket 
of  his  coat,  and  I  thought  of  a  hidden  weapon, 
and  wondered  if  he  had  n't  emptied  my  own  re- 
volver of  its  cartridges  before  handing  it  back. 
Convinced  this  must  be  true,  I  remained  quiet 
awaiting  his  reply. 

"What  is  your  price?"  he  asked  finally,  a  bit 
of  ill  concealed  contempt  in  the  tone. 

"Suppose  I  say  fifty  thousand." 

"Francs?" 

"Hardly;  I  understood  your  offer  to  be  in 
American  money." 

Without  changing  his  attitude  I  could  see  the 
man's  muscles  stiffen,  his  teeth  clinch. 


BRANDT  SHOWS  HIS  HAND      81 

"Are  you  in  earnest?"  he  asked  sharply. 
"That  is  your  price?" 

I  nodded,  wondeying  what  I  would  do  if  he 
should  accept.  There  was  an  instant  of  silence, 
and  then,  before  he  could  speak  three  raps 
sounded  on  the  outside  door. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A   WOMAN   INTERFERES 

IGNORING  my  presence  Brandt  crossed 
the  room,  and  disappeared  in  the  narrow 
hall.  I  found  as  I  already  suspected,  that 
my  revolver  was  empty.  This  accounted  then 
for  his  coolness — armed  himself  he  had  no  fear  of 
me,  with  only  that  useless  weapon  with  which  to 
wage  battle.  I  sank  back  into  my  chair,  calm 
enough  to  all  outward  appearance,  but  with  every 
nerve  throbbing.  He  came  back  accompanied 
by  two  men;  one  was  Franzen,  the  other  a 
stranger  with  drooping  blonde  mustache,  and 
heavily  arched  brows.  While  Brandt  locked 
the  door,  this  fellow  stood  and  stared  at  me  in 
silence,  and  something  in  his  expression  caused 
me  to  rise  to  my  feet.  It  was  the  Captain,  how- 
ever, who  spoke  first,  advancing  to  the  table. 

"Well,  Dessaud,"  he  said  more  roughly  than 
before.  "I  guess  we  understand  each  other,  and 
need  spar  no  longer.     You  know  why  I  am  here, 

82 


A  WOMAN  INTERFERES  83 

and  what  I  am  after.  I  take  it  I  am  not  en- 
tirely unknown  to  you  by  reputation?" 

"I  have  heard  of  you  before." 

"Most  French  officers  have,"  he  confessed 
dryly,  but  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction.  "That 
knowledge  ought  to  make  my  work  easier.  For 
instance  you  are  aware  that  I  never  betray  a 
secret,  and  never  let  go  when  I  once  take  hold. 
Is  this  true?" 

"That  is  your  reputation — yes." 

"Then  listen;  you  are  in  my  power,  absolutely 
in  my  power.  No  one  except  those  in  my  em- 
ploy have  the  slightest  conception  as  to  what  has 
become  of  you.  I  can  take  your  life,  and  it  will 
merely  remain  a  mystery.  No  one  in  this  hotel 
knows  who  you  are,  or  will  ever  suspect  your 
identity.  You  are  helpless  to  defend  yourself; 
the  revolver  I  just  returned  to  you  is  unloaded. 
Now  the  only  question  is,  are  you  going  to  be 
sensible,  and  give  me  the  information!  seek,  or 
shall  we  have  to  drill  it  out  of  you?  I  am  indif- 
ferent as  to  your  choice,  for  we  are  prepared  for 
either  emergency.  As  to  your  price,  it  is  too 
high;  my  limit  is  twenty-five  thousand  dollars." 

"You  offer  that?" 


84  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"Yes." 

"And  if  I  refuse,  you  intend  to  try  and  force 
the  information  from  me.     May  I  ask  how?" 

"You  may  ask,  certainly,  but  we  keep  our  own 
counsel,"  smiling  pleasantly  enough.  "That, 
however,  is  a  procedure  in  which  I  have  seldom 
failed.  I  think,  Monsieur,  you  must  perceive 
the  helplessness  of  your  position,  and,  I  trust, 
will  accept  my  terms,  which,  you  must  confess, 
are  most  generous." 

"I  refuse  them,"  I  returned  coldly,  and  sat 
down  again  in  my  chair,  staring  into  their  faces. 
"I  am  a  French  soldier." 

No  one  moved,  only  Franzen  and  the  other 
glanced  aside  at  Brandt,  as  though  expecting  or- 
ders. It  seemed  to  me  the  latter  hesitated,  as 
if  puzzled  at  my  sudden  decision. 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  Dessaud,"  he  exclaimed  sul- 
lenly. "This  is  between  us  alone ;  you  better  ac- 
cept the  money." 

"No;  I  have  answered  you." 

"From  whom  do  you  expect  help,  man?  The 
Consul  and  your  two  machinists  alone  know  you 
are  in  the  city — surely  it  is  n't  that  woman  ?" 
He  laughed,  glancing  aside  at  the  fellow  with 


A  WOMAN  INTERFERES  85 

the  mustache.  "You  might  tell  him  what  has 
become  of  the  girl,  Swigert." 

"She  was  watched  in  her  own  home,"  the 
other  rumbled.  "I  know.  I  just  come  from 
there." 

"You  are  still  obstinate?" 

"The  whereabouts  of  Miss  Probyn  can  be  of 
no  special  interest  to  me,"  I  said,  yet  conscious 
of  a  vague  disappointment.  "I  refuse,  not  from 
any  hope  of  escape,  but  because  I  hold  my  honor 
of  more  value  than  my  life." 

"Yet  you  set  a  price." 

"Pardon,  Messieurs,  but  I  did  not.  I  men- 
tioned a  price  to  test  the  value  of  my  invention. 
Personally  I  am  not  for  sale." 

"Your  decision  is  final?" 

"It  is— go  on." 

"We  will  go  on.  You  have  a  lesson  to  learn 
yet.  Stand  up!  Now  hear  me.  We,  the  four 
of  us,  are  going  down  the  elevator,  and  will  take 
a  cab  waiting  at  the  front  door.  You  will  walk 
with  me,  Monsieur,  and  Swigert  and  Franzen 
will  be  just  behind.  I  advise  you  not  to  attempt 
breaking  away,  or  raising  any  alarm.  The  house 
detective  will  meet  us  in  the  hall,  and  accom- 


86  THE  AIR  PILOT 

pany  us  to  the  door.  He  supposes  you  to  be 
Baron  Von  Eisel,  a  friend  of  ours,  crazed  with 
drink,  whom  we  are  taking  home.  He  is  paid 
to  think  so.  Any  break  on  your  part  will  re- 
sult in  some  rough  handling.  Franzen,  put 
Lieutenant  Dessaud's  hat  on  his  head.  Now, 
Monsieur,  permit  me  to  take  your  arm." 

An  instant  I  hesitated,  even  stepped  back 
against  the  wall,  half  inclined  to  resistance. 
Yet  the  odds  were  too  great  for  me  to  battle 
single-handed  against  three  armed  men.  Swi- 
gert  gripped  my  shoulder  savagely,  and  swung 
me  into  the  center  of  the  room. 

"Maybe  you  want  me  to  show  you!"  he 
growled,  "how  we  handle  men  in  the  German 
barracks?     You  go  quiet — hey?" 

Brandt  took  my  arm,  his  grasp  firm. 

"Come  on,  Dessaud,"  he  said  quietly.  "That 
is  no  use." 

I  realized  it,  but  was  too  angry  for  words. 
Besides  anything  would  be  better  than  this  room. 
Franzen  opened  the  door,  and  turned  out  the 
lights,  and  I  permitted  Brandt  to  lead  me  forth 
into  the  hall.  The  house  detective  stood  leaning 
against  the  stair-rail,  watching  us  curiously. 


A  WOMAN  INTERFERES  87 

"Still  'bug'?"  he  asked,  indifferently. 

"Nothing  serious,"  returned  Brandt,  urging 
me  toward  the  elevator.  "Only  a  bit  quarrel- 
some; thinks  we  're  trying  to  rob  him.  You  bet- 
ter come  along,  officer,  until  we  get  him  safely 
outside." 

We  were  alone  in  the  elevator,  and  I  was 
crowded  back  into  one  corner.  The  utter  use- 
lessness  of  attempting  resistance,  or  of  making 
any  appeal  for  help,  was  apparent.  The  very 
presence  of  the  hotel  officer  left  me  helpless. 
Yet  my  brain  was  active  enough,  and  I  was  alert 
for  the  slightest  opportunity.  There  were  sev- 
eral men  scattered  about  the  lobby,  and,  perhaps, 
a  half  dozen  women  visible  in  an  ante-room  be- 
yond. A  single  swift  glance  informed  me  this 
was  not  the  Congress,  although  from  appearance 
a  hotel  of  high  grade,  the  furnishing  expensive, 
and  in  excellent  taste.  The  clock  above  the 
clerk's  desk  told  me  the  hour — a  quarter  of 
eleven.  Almost  before  I  realized  what  was  hap- 
pening I  had  been  hustled  across  the  lobby  onto 
the  sidewalk  in  front.  Strange  as  I  was  to  the 
city  nothing  familiar  greeted  me  in  my  swift 
glance  up   and  down    the   street.     My  guards 


88  THE  AIR  PILOT 

gave  me  no  opportunity  to  perceive  much,  clos- 
ing tightly  about,  and  pressing  me  hastily  for- 
ward. The  taxi  stood  slightly  at  one  side  the 
hotel  entrance,  but  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
chauffeur's  face  in  the  blaze  of  electric  light,  as 
I  was  unceremoniously  thrust  through  the  open 
door — he  was  the  reporter,  Eisenbarth.  Fran- 
zen  and  Swigert  jammed  themselves  into  the 
back  seat  on  either  side  of  me,  still  gripping  my 
arms,  and  Brandt  had  one  foot  on  the  step,  when 
he  paused  suddenly,  and  closed  the  door. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  he  said  shortly,  "until  I  use 
the  telephone." 

Helpless  to  move,  crushed  in  as  I  was,  I  could 
see  the  hotel  entrance,  and  watched  him  disap- 
pear, leaving  the  house-detective  loitering  in  the 
door-way.  No  one  spoke,  except  for  a  growl 
from  one  of  my  guards  as  I  attempted  to  assume 
an  easier  posture.  The  glass  windows  were  up 
in  front,  and  the  chauffeur  appeared  only  as  a 
mere  shadow.  During  those  few  moments  there 
was  borne  in  upon  me  a  full  consciousness  of  my 
desperate  situation.  Previously  I  had  taken  the 
matter  rather  lightly,  unable  to  comprehend  how 
such  an  outrage  as  this  could  be  consummated  in 


A  WOMAN  INTERFERES         89 

the  very  heart  of  the  city.  I  was  not  unknown, 
or  friendless  even  in  Chicago ;  to  my  countrymen 
my  name  stood  for  much,  and  there  were  many 
all  about  who  would  rally  at  a  word  to  my  relief. 
It  had  seemed  to  me  that  could  I  once  escape 
from  that  room  up  stairs  any  appeal  for  help 
would  meet  with  instant  response.  Yet  the  pos- 
sibility of  my  attempting  such  an  escape  had 
been  anticipated,  and  guarded  against.  I  was 
merely  a  drunken  fool,  being  taken  home  by 
friends,  under  direction  of  the  hotel  police  offi- 
cer. Any  appeal  I  might  make  would  only  be 
laughed  at.  And  these  fellows  were  in  earnest; 
they  were  prepared  to  go  far  in  attaining  their 
ends.  This  was  a  plot,  well  conceived  and 
thought  out.  From  the  first  appearance  of  Miss 
Probyn  the  object  of  every  move  was  to  get  me 
into  their  possession ;  it  had  all  been  planned,  the 
quarrel  at  the  cafe,  the  room  rented  in  this  ob- 
scure hotel,  the  rifling  of  my  pockets,  the  offer 
of  money.  And  now,  when  all  these  means  of 
learning  my  secret  had  failed,  these  men  were 
equally  prepared  to  go  on  with  even  more  des- 
perate tactics.  Eisenbarth  had  not  asked  where 
he  was  to  drive  the  machine;  he  already  knew. 


90  THE  AIR  PILOT 

I  did  not,  yet  my  mind  grasped  one  probable 
fact — I  was  either  to  be  taken  to  some  rendez- 
vous, where  I  could  be  safely  kept  from  discov- 
ery, or  else  to  the  hangar  where  my  monoplane 
was  under  guard.  The  latter  supposition  did 
not  appear  reasonable  in  view  of  the  fact  that 
such  an  appearance  would  involve  the  danger  of 
exposure.  Brandt  would  never  risk  that,  ex- 
cept as  a  last  resort.  He  was  a  secret  agent,  and 
his  ability  to  produce  results  depended  largely 
on  his  presence  being  unknown.  From  the  con- 
versation overheard  it  was  evident  my  men  had 
been  already  tampered  with — the  Pinkerton 
guard — or  one  of  them,  at  least — bought,  and 
Ramon  rendered  useless  by  intoxicants.  But  De 
Vigne  remained  sober  and  watchful,  and  the 
hangar  could  not  be  broken  into  without  creat- 
ing alarm.  No,  the  object  must  be  to  get  me 
where  I  could  be  handled,  tortured  if  need  be, 
and  driven  to  reveal  all  I  knew.  And  I  could 
expect  little  mercy,  once  they  deemed  themselves 
safe.  I  had  heard  whispers  of  Brandt's  methods 
in  Europe;  diplomatic  and  smiling  as  he  ap- 
peared outwardly,  by  nature  he  belonged  to  the 
age  of  the  Inquisition.     To  attain  his  ends  he 


A  WOMAN  INTERFERES  91 

would  not  hesitate  at  any  desperate  expedient. 
The  outlook  was  not  a  pleasant  one. 

The  house-detective  disappeared  within;  there 
were  occasional  passers-by,  yet  I  was  guarded  too 
closely  to  make  any  disturbance.  I  thought  I 
saw  someone  loitering  in  the  dark  doorway  of  a 
railway  ticket  office  opposite  the  cab  window,  but 
could  not  distinctly  distinguish  the  form.  Then 
Brandt  emerged  under  the  glare  of  electric  light, 
and  stepped  forth  onto  the  broad  sidewalk.  As 
he  appeared  the  figure  flitted  out  from  the 
shadows,  and  approached  him.  It  was  a  woman, 
wearing  a  loose  wrap.  They  exchanged  per- 
haps a  dozen  words,  although  the  man  did  not 
speak  but  once.  Then  they  advanced  across  the 
walk  together,  and  Brandt  flung  open  the  door 
of  the  cab.  The  next  instant  he  had  grasped  her 
arm,  and  thrust  her  inside,  springing  in  after 
her.  I  heard  her  utter  a  quick,  smothered  ex- 
clamation of  surprise,  felt  her  extended  hands 
grasp  me  to  keep  from  falling;  then  the  cab 
started  roughly  with  a  jerk,  and  someone  pressed 
her  back  into  a  corner  of  the  front  seat,  while 
Brandt  squeezed  himself  in  beside  her.  Except 
for  the  occasional  flash  of  a  street  lamp  we  were 


92  THE  AIR  PILOT 

in  utter  darkness.  I  could  barely  distinguish 
the  figures  opposite,  yet  I  knew  the  woman 
struggled  to  get  to  her  feet,  only  to  be  thrust 
back  helpless  by  Brandt  who  gripped  both  her 
hands. 

"Keep  still!"  he  ordered  sharply.  "You  Ve 
shoved  yourself  into  this  affair,  now,  you  '11  take 
the  consequences,  young  lady.  Be  quiet,  I  say! 
There  is  no  harm  going  to  be  done  you,  only 
I  '11  put  you  where  you  can't  talk  for  awhile.'* 

The  woman,  whoever  she  was,  made  no  out- 
cry, but  drew  her  hands  indignantly  from  his 
grasp,  and  shrank  back  into  her  corner  of  the 
cab,  cowering  there.  Enveloped  in  her  loose 
wrap,  she  was  but  a  shapeless  shadow,  and,  even 
in  the  occasional  flashes  of  light,  I  was  unable 
to  distinguish  the  outline  of  her  features.  In 
truth  I  was  so  deeply  concerned  with  my  own 
predicament  that  my  interest  in  her  was  only 
momentary.  If  her  interjection  into  the  game 
was  some  outcome  of  Brandt's  love  affairs  it  in 
no  way  concerned  itself  with  me.  Staring  out 
as  best  I  could  I  endeavored  to  determine  where 
we  were  going,  but  my  slight  knowledge  of  the 
streets  of  the  city  was  a  serious  handicap.     Once 


A  WOMAN  INTERFERES  93 

I  felt  confident  we  turned  onto  Michigan  Ave- 
nue, heading  south,  for  there  was  a  park  on  the 
left,  and  the  street  was  illumined  hy  clustered 
lights.  The  cab  was  traveling  rapidly,  so  much 
so  that  Brandt  rapped  sharply  on  the  glass  front, 
and  ordered  the  chauffeur  to  slow  down : 

"Not  so  fast,"  he  snapped  angrily.  "We  can- 
not afford  to  be  stopped,  and  taken  to  a  police 
station." 

Crushed  in  as  we  were  any  movement  looking 
toward  escape  was  useless.  I  endeavored  to 
count  the  cross-streets,  but  became  confused  and 
lost  tally.  Then  we  whirled  to  the  left  over  a 
block  or  two  of  rough  pavement,  made  a  circle 
through  what  appeared  like  a  small  park,  and 
came  forth  into  an  ill-lighted  street.  As  near 
as  I  could  determine  our  course  was  still  south, 
and  we  skirted  a  stone  wall,  perhaps  eight  or 
ten  feet  high,  partially  overgrown  with  foliage. 
I  was  hardly  sure  as  to  this,  until  the  machine 
suddenly  swerved,  and  ran  in  through  an  open 
gate,  plunging  us  into  complete  darkness  be- 
neath the  shadow  of  overhanging  trees.  But 
the  chauffeur  evidently  knew  the  way,  for,  with 
lights    extinguished,    he    half-circled    twice    on 


94  THE  AIR  PILOT 

a  noiseless  road-way,  and  then  came  to  a  stop. 

"Open  the  door,  Fritz,"  said  Brandt,  leaning 
over  to  peer  past  us.  "You  and  Swigert  take 
care  of  your  man ;  I  '11  look  after  the  girl.  Don't 
let  go  of  him." 

I  was  pulled  forth  rather  roughly,  but  on 
reaching  my  feet  outside,  could  perceive  we  were 
in  the  shadow  of  a  large  building,  apparently  a 
residence,  but  with  no  light  visible  anywhere. 
Just  before  us  was  a  flight  of  stone  steps.  The 
two  men  gripped  my  arms  urging  me  along  a 
narrow  walk  which  led  to  a  basement  door.  I 
hung  back  just  enough  to  anger  them,  while 
Brandt  forced  the  woman  to  alight. 

"Drive  in  under  the  cover,  and  wait,"  he  com- 
manded the  chauffeur.  "Cut  out  your  ciga- 
rettes; someone  might  see  the  light.  Now 
young  lady." 

She  sprang  back,  tearing  the  sleeve  of  her 
wrap  as  she  jerked  it  out  of  his  fingers.  Fran- 
zen,  with  a  German  oath,  released  his  grasp  on 
me  and  grabbed  for  her,  and,  before  she  could 
round  the  cab  wheel,  the  Captain  had  her.  She 
struck  him  once,  struggling  to  break  free,  and 
the  fellow  laughed,  crushing  her  arms  down. 


A  WOMAN  INTERFERES         95 

"That 's  enough,  you  little  girl,"  he  sneered, 
"come  on  now." 

"I  will  not,"  the  voice  trembling,  but  deter- 
mined.    "Take  your  hands  off  me." 

It  was  then  I  knew  who  she  was,  and,  with  one 
supreme  effort,  wrenched  myself  free  from  Swi- 
gert,  and  leaped  straight  at  Brandt's  throat. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

TRAPPED 

I  REACHED  him,  gripping  his  collar  with 
one  hand,  and  driving  my  fist  twice  into 
his  face,  hurling  him  back  against  the  ton- 
neau.  Yet  they  were  three  to  one,  the  chauf- 
feur springing  from  his  seat  to  help,  while  Fran- 
zen  clung  to  the  girl.  Swigert's  arms  jerked 
me  back,  someone  kicked  me  savagely  in  the 
side,  and  then  I  felt  the  muzzle  of  a  revolver 
pressed  against  my  cheek.  Dark  as  it  was  I 
could  see  a  gash  across  Brandt's  chin  from  which 
blood  dripped. 

"I  marked  you  anyway,"  I  jeered  up  at  him, 
unable  to  move,  "y°u  brute." 

"You  '11  find  out  what  I  am  soon  enough  now," 
he  answered,  panting  slightly  from  exertion. 
"That  blow  won't  make  things  any  easier  for 
you.  I  pay  my  debts,  Monsieur.  Come  on 
now,  unless  you  prefer  to  be  shot." 

I  got  to  my  feet  slowly,  but  not  at  all  fright- 
ened by  his  threat. 

96 


TRAPPED  97 

"There  are  too  many  of  you  for  me,"  I  ac- 
knowledged, rubbing  my  knuckles,  and  endeav- 
oring to  distinguish  the  presence  of  the  girl,  "but 
I  am  not  afraid  of  your  shooting." 

"You  mean  I  do  not  dare?" 

"Well,  partly  that;  rather,  however,  there 
would  be  nothing  for  you  to  gain — I  am  worth 
more  to  you  alive." 

"You  would  be  as  valuable  wounded." 

"Yet  you  will  not  risk  it.  Where  is  Miss 
Probyn?" 

"Out  of  your  way.  But  this  is  enough  talk 
until  we  are  inside.  No  one  is  going  to  injure 
the  girl  if  she  will  behave  herself.  That  you, 
Franzen?  Safe,  hey?  All  right,  now  I  guess 
the  two  of  us  can  handle  this  French  cockerel. 
You  stay  with  the  car,  Eisenbarth.  Come, 
Lieutenant,  you  may  as  well  go  along  quietly, 
unless  you  enjoy  being  hurt." 

The  basement  door  had  been  left  open,  and 
between  them  I  was  shoved  into  the  dark  pas- 
sage beyond.  Someone  closed  and  locked  the 
outer  barrier  and  then  switched  on  an  electric 
light,  revealing  a  flight  of  stairs.  Realizing  my 
inability  to  resist,  and  more  impressed  now  with 


98  THE  AIR  PILOT 

the  fact  that  Helen  Probyn  was  also  being  held 
prisoner  in  this  house,  than  with  my  own  danger, 
I  obeyed  instructions  without  a  word,  and  as- 
cended to  the  second  story.  The  great  hall  we 
traversed,  as  well  as  the  rooms  into  which  I  was 
ushered,  gave  evidence  that  this  was  a  private 
home,  the  residence  of  someone  possessing  both 
wealth  and  refinement.  The  rugs  on  the  floor, 
the  furniture  draped  in  denim,  the  choice  pic- 
tures on  the  walls,  revealed  in  the  dim  light,  all 
combined  to  make  this  evident.  The  double 
shades  at  the  windows  were  drawn  closely,  and 
Brandt  turned  on  sufficient  light  so  I  could  per- 
ceive something  of  my  surroundings.  We  came 
to  a  halt  in  what  was  apparently  a  music  room, 
as  it  contained  a  grand  piano  as  well  as  a  harp, 
and  I  was  thrust  down  into  a  chair.  Brandt 
muttered  some  words  of  instruction  to  the  others 
in  German,  and  they  disappeared,  leaving  us 
alone  together,  the  captain  remaining  between 
me  and  the  door.  He  did  not  speak,  although 
I  noticed  his  right  hand  was  hidden  in  his 
pocket,  and  his  eyes  watched  me  closely.  For 
some  moments  I  also  remained  silent,  staring 
about  the  room,  but  the  silence  became  oppres- 


TRAPPED  99 

sive,  and  my  curiosity  overcame  my  contempt. 

"I  presume  I  am  to  consider  myself  a  pris- 
oner." 

"For  the  present — yes.  How  long  that  state 
of  affairs  may  continue  will  depend  entirely  upon 
yourself." 

"You  mean  when  I  am  prepared  to  reveal  the 
secrets  entrusted  to  me  by  my  government?" 

He  bowed,  nursing  the  cut  on  his  chin. 

"You  have  our  offer,  Monsieur." 

My  face  flushed. 

"Apparently  your  conception  of  the  honor  of 
a  French  officer  is  not  high." 

"This  is  not  the  first  time  I  have  put  it  to  the 
test,"  he  said  lightly,  "and  think  you  will  learn 
to  see  the  value  of  freedom." 

"But  you  cannot  expect  to  hold  me  here 
indefinitely?  I  am  not  an  unknown  gutter 
rat." 

"You  might  as  well  be,  Monsieur,"  he  replied, 
apparently  quite  at  ease.  "Do  not  deceive  your- 
self as  to  any  chance  of  rescue.  I  am  too  old 
at  the  game  to  be  caught  in  that  way.  I  pre- 
sume you  have  no  conception  as  to  where  you  are 
at  present." 


100  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"No,  except  that  I  am  still  in  Chicago." 

"A  rather  indefinite  description,  as  Chicago 
is  a  large  city,  and  hence  one  of  the  best  hiding 
places  in  the  world.  You  are  in  a  private  home, 
unoccupied  for  a  year,  and  your  whereabouts  are 
unknown  except  to  those  connected  with  our  se- 
cret service.  The  care-keeper  is  in  my  pay — 
Swigert.  Meanwhile  who  is  liable  to  be  partic- 
ularly interested  in  your  disappearance?  the 
French  Consul,  and  a  couple  of  mechanics.  The 
police,  bah!"  and  he  smiled  genially,  waving  his 
hand.  "  'T  is  easy  enough  to  steer  them  wrong, 
Monsieur,"  leaning  forward,  and  lowering  his 
voice,  "If  you  never  came  back,  I  do  not  believe 
it  would  create  such  a  great  stir — there  could  be 
reasons  given,  most  plausible  reasons,  whispered 
here  and  there." 

"That  I  had  sold  out?"  I  asked,  gripping  the 
arms  of  my  chair.  "That  I  had  been  untrue  to 
France?" 

"Why  not?  Who  could  tell  otherwise?  You 
would  be  neither  the  first,  nor  the  last,  Monsieur. 
We  Germans  get  what  we  go  after." 

I  drew  in  my  breath  sharply,  perceiving  in  an 
instant  the  predicament  in  which  this  suave  vil- 


TRAPPED  101 

lain  had  placed  me.  It  was  true — if  I  disap- 
peared, and  these  men,  through  force,  or  finesse, 
succeeded  in  learning  the  secrets  of  my  mono- 
plane, the  construction  would  be  obvious.  No 
one  would  believe  I  had  died  in  honor;  no  one 
would  ever  know. 

"You  perceive,  Monsieur,"  Brandt  went  on 
calmly,  grasping  my  thought.  "  'T  is  why  we 
brought  you  here  to  this  lonely  house,  that  you 
might  think  over  my  liberal  offer  of  recompense. 
It  was  dollars,  not  francs,  Monsieur,  and,  they 
tell  me,  the  West  offers  opportunities  to  energy, 
and — means.  Is  not  life  and  money  more  to  be 
sought  than  death  and  dishonor?  'T  is  to  be  con- 
sidered, Monsieur." 

"You  threaten  that!  What  would  my  death 
gain  you?" 

"Nothing  at  present,  tonight,"  his  voice  cold 
and  deliberate.  "We  naturally  prefer  to  deal 
quietly  with  you,  yet  there  are  other  methods 
available.  It  would  not  be  impossible,  I  im- 
agine, to  even  find  a  way  into  your  hangar 
without  discovery.  You  smile!  We  Germans 
study  everything,  Monsieur ;  we  are  patient,  dili- 
gent.    The  guard — pah!  it  is  less  money  than  we 


102  THE  AIR  PILOT 

offer  you  for  a  guard,  and,  as  for  your  own  men, 
Ramon  is  a  drunken  fool,  and  De  Vigne;  there 
are  ways  of  dealing  with  De  Vigne.  I  tell  you 
this  that  you  may  see  just  how  you  are  situated. 
Not  that  I  threaten — oh,  no;  but  they  know  me 
in  Europe  for  what  I  am — I  do  not  fear  the  ex- 
treme measures,  when  all  else  fails." 

He  leaned  back,  his  eyes  looking  frankly  into 
mine,  his  shoulders  squared.  There  was  no 
doubt  as  to  his  exact  meaning,  his  intentions. 
Something  about  the  cold  insolence  of  the. man, 
coupled  with  memories  of  his  reputation,  caused 
me  to  shiver.  He  was  like  a  wild  beast  on  the 
trail,  merciless,  unyielding,  hungry  for  the  smell 
of  blood.  And  I  recognized  now  he  possessed 
the  power ;  he  had  played  his  cards  well. 

"Possibly,  Herr  Brandt,"  I  suggested  at  last, 
holding  myself  firm,  "you  may  have  overlooked 
Mademoiselle  Probyn." 

"No  harm  will  be  done  her,  except  a  slight  de- 
tention. We  are  not  interested  in  any  story  she 
might  care  to  tell  afterwards.  Whatever  her 
suspicions,  she  knows  practically  nothing." 

"True;  yet  she  must  have  friends  to  be  alarmed 
at  her  absence." 


TRAPPED  103 

He  laughed. 

"Which  remark  serves  us  rather  than  yourself. 
'T  was  a  point  I  had  overlooked.  Fritz,  come 
here."  Franzen  appeared  so  suddenly  that  I 
comprehended  he  had  been  on  guard  in  the  hall 
without.  "Is  not  Monsieur's  room  ready  yet? 
No;  it  should  have  been  prepared  before  we 
came.  Keep  watch  here  a  moment  while  I  tele- 
phone." 

He  crossed  the  room,  disappearing  into  an  al- 
cove at  my  left,  while  the  newcomer  leaned 
watchfully  in  the  doorway.  I  heard  the  click 
of  the  receiver  as  it  was  taken  down. 

"Give  me  Main  782 — yes,  the  Press  office; 
hallo,  is  this  the  Press  editorial  rooms? — can  you 
connect  me  with  the  City-editor's  desk?  Yes, 
it  is  important — thank  you.  Who  is  it  speak- 
ing? All  right,  Schmitt;  I  recognize  the  voice 
now — this  is  Brandt — never  mind  where  I  am — 
the  less  you  know  the  better — yes,  everything  is 
all  right — what  I  called  you  up  for  is  this,  if 
anyone  inquires  for  your  young  lady  reporter 
just  tell  them  she  is  on  an  assignment  out  of 
town,  will  you — may  be  gone  a  week.  Never 
mind  the  reason ;  you  do  as  I  say.     Oh,  she  's  safe 


104  THE  AIR  PILOT 

enough,  but  there  might  be  friends  who  would 
inquire.     Yes,  that  is  all — good-by." 

He  sauntered  carelessly  back  into  the  room, 
whistling  softly. 

"A  ghost  easily  laid,"  he  said,  "and  do  you 
still  require  time  in  which  to  consider,  Mon- 
sieur?" 

"No;  you  already  have  my  answer." 

"They  say  the  English  are  obstinate,  but  com- 
mend me  to  a  Frenchman.  However  a  few 
hours  may  work  wonders,  and  meanwhile  I  have 
other  strings  to  my  bow.  Is  the  room  ready, 
Swigert?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  man  stolidly  in  German, 
his  face  showing  in  the  open  door  beside  Fran- 
zen,  "I  have  it  ready." 

Brandt  bowed  to  me  in  mock  politeness,  his 
hand  over  his  heart. 

"A  night's  rest,  Monsieur,  together  with  an 
hour  devoted  to  thought  in  the  morning  may  be 
sufficient  to  show  you  the  error  of  your  ways. 
If  not,"  and  I  felt  the  sudden  grip  of  his  fingers 
on  my  arm,  "I  will  have  to  convince  you  by 
sterner  measures.     Come." 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  obey,  faced  as  I 


TRAPPED  105 

was  by  the  three  of  them,  all  probably  armed. 
However  they  might  fear  to  use  their  weapons 
elsewhere,  all  danger  of  alarm  was  now  nullified 
by  the  thick  walls,  and  isolated  situation  of  this 
house.  With  Swigert  leading  the  way,  and 
Brandt  and  Franzen  close  at  my  heels,  I  pro- 
ceeded into  the  dimly  lighted  hall.  The  care- 
taker turned  to  the  left,  his  footsteps  noiseless 
on  the  soft  carpeting,  and  then  descended  a  stair- 
way into  the  basement.  A  single  small  electric 
bulb  gave  me  glimpses  of  the  surroundings.  It 
was  all  cement,  even  to  the  dividing  walls,  to  the 
right  open,  merging  into  darkness  forward, 
while  on  the  other  hand  were  rooms  of  different 
sizes,  arranged  conveniently  for  household  use. 
The  first  was  evidently  the  laundry,  as  I  caught 
glimpse  of  stationary  tubs;  the  second  held  a 
riff-raff  of  discarded  furniture,  and  at  the  door 
of  the  third  my  guide  stopped,  motioning  me  to 
enter.  The  door,  which  to  my  surprise  was  of 
iron,  opened  outwardly  and  was  made  to  be  se- 
cured by  a  heavy  bar.  Within  I  saw  a  bare  cot 
and  single  stool,  the  walls  solid  and  unbroken, 
save  for  a  small  round  opening  directly  oppo- 
site.    I  turned  inquiringly  to  Brandt, 


106  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"Rather  a  neat  arrangement,"  he  commented 
dryly.  "Absolute  quiet  assured.  Tradition 
has  it  that  the  owner's  brother  became  insane 
from  drink,  and  this  room  was  originally  pre- 
pared to  keep  him  in  until  he  recovered,  thus 
avoiding  an  unpleasant  notoriety.  You  will 
kindly  enter,  Monsieur." 

His  tone,  the  expression  on  his  face,  was  a 
command,  and  I  stepped  over  the  threshold,  still 
facing  them. 

"I  believe  there  is  nothing  more  we  can  do 
for  your  comfort,"  he  went  on,  rather  enjoying 
the  situation.  "There  is  running  water  in  the 
corner;  no  luxuries,  of  course,  but  all  that  a  sol- 
dier requires.  If  the  bed  is  hard  you  may  have 
more  opportunity  for  thought.  My  offer  re- 
mains twenty-five  thousand,  Monsieur,  and  a 
guard  will  remain  without." 

I  did  not  answer,  and  he  laughed,  signaling 
Swigert  to  close  the  door.  It  swung  into  place 
with  a  clang,  and  I  heard  the  bar  forced  down 
into  its  sockets.  For  an  instant  I  stood  motion- 
less staring  at  the  painted  iron,  half  suspecting 
I  was  in  a  dream.  Vet  this  stupor  was  but  for  the 
instant;  strange  as  the  events  of  the  night  were, 


TRAPPED  107 

rapidly  as  they  had  occurred,  it  was  impossible 
for  me  to  ignore  their  reality.  The  warning  of 
my  superiors  in  France  flashed  across  my  brain; 
they  had  appreciated,  as  I  had  not,  the  desire 
of  other  nations  to  appropriate  our  secrets. 
Yet,  even  now,  it  was  almost  impossible  for  me 
to  conceive  that  such  ruthless  tactics  would  be 
resorted  to.  This  was  the  twentieth  century,  not 
the  seventeenth,  and  the  heart  of  a  great  city. 
Outside,  almost  within  reach  of  my  voice,  was 
modern  civilization — law,  the  police,  the  news- 
papers, the  quiet  home-life  of  millions.  Yet 
here  I  was,  a  prisoner  in  a  dungeon,  as  com- 
pletely in  Brandt's  power  as  though  a  captive 
of  the  Middle  Ages.  I  had  read  of  such  things 
in  fiction,  and  laughed  at  their  improbability. 
I  had  supposed  the  War  Office,  in  their  warning, 
had  merely  meant  that  I  should  beware  of  spies. 
To  that  end  I  had  taken  every  ordinary  precau- 
tion, bearing  on  my  person  no  papers  of  value, 
and  having  the  hangar  guarded  night  and  day. 
But  I  had  never  anticipated  a  situation  like  this. 
Keen  as  was  the  rivalry  in  aeronautics  through- 
out Europe,  it  had  never  once  occurred  to  me 
that  my  invention  was  of  a  great  money  value 


108  THE  AIR  PILOT 

to  a  rival  nation,  or  that  its  representatives  would 
resort  to  force  to  make  me  reveal  the  secret. 
But  I  knew  now,  and  the  shock  of  discovery  was 
like  a  blow.  Brandt  was  in  deadly  earnest,  and 
had  already  gone  too  far  to  hesitate  at  going 
further.  His  were  no  idle  threats,  however 
smilingly  uttered.  His  reputation  convinced 
me  of  that,  even  if  I  had  not  read  the  truth  in 
the  face  of  the  man.  He  had  the  name  of  re- 
sorting to  desperate  means,  and  more  than  one 
whispered  story  of  his  dealing  in  such  matters, 
came  hauntingly  to  memory.  Some  of  these 
even  hinted  vaguely  at  murder,  at  mysterious 
disappearances,  at  actual  robbery.  In  Paris 
some  wag  had  nick-named  him  "the  last  resort." 
Then — then  I  was  not  only  battling  for  honor, 
for  the  safe-guarding  of  a  French  secret — my 
very  life  was  in  peril. 

I  seemed  to  awaken  anew  at  the  thought,  and 
my  eyes,  which  had  been  staring,  unseeing,  at 
that  iron  door,  glanced  about  over  the  gray  walls 
of  cement.  I  was  trapped  like  a  rat,  but  not 
yet  hopeless,  or  despairing.  This  was  no  prison, 
but  merely  a  refuge  for  a  victim  of  alcoholism; 
strong  as  it  appeared,   secure  as  Brandt  evi- 


TRAPPED  109 

dently  believed  it  to  be,  yet  there  might  be  a 
weakness  somewhere  to  yield  to  ingenuity  and 
patience.  It  was  worth  the  try.  I  sought  the 
round  opening  first ;  small  as  it  was,  far  too  small 
for  my  body  to  ever  squeeze  through;  it  was  ef- 
fectually blocked  by  boiler  plate,  through  which 
small  apertures  had  been  pierced  sufficient  for 
the  admittance  of  air.  The  plate  itself  was  sol- 
idly set  in  the  wall,  imbedded  in  cement.  Find- 
ing not  even  so  much  as  a  loosened  corner  at 
which  I  could  pry,  I  began  a  slow  testing  of  the 
wall,  using  the  butt  of  my  unloaded  revolver  with 
which  to  sound.  There  was  brick  beneath  the 
coating  of  cement,  a  hard,  glazed  brick,  as  I 
discovered  by  painfully  gouging  out  a  cracked 
bit  in  one  corner,  set  solidly  in  mortar,  so  hard 
it  turned  my  knife-blade.  I  dared  not  venture 
striking  with  any  force,  but  with  ear  against  the 
wall,  convinced  myself  that  it  was  both  solid  and 
thick.  I  made  the  circuit  of  the  room  twice, 
testing  it  every  foot  or  two,  without  reward. 
No  hollow  sound  disclosed  any  weakness.  For 
the  first  time  I  despaired,  and  sat  down  upon 
the  couch,  not  knowing  what  else  to  attempt. 
No   sound  reached   me   through   those   thick 


110  THE  AIR  PILOT 

walls,  and  if,  as  Brandt  had  intimated,  a  guard 
remained  on  duty  in  the  basement,  the  fellow 
possessed  no  means  of  observing  my  movements 
within.  The  door  was  a  solid  piece  of  iron,  and, 
while  it  might  be  possible  for  one  outside  to  use 
the  small  holes  pierced  in  the  grating  over  the 
window,  I  felt  confident  I  was  not  being  spied 
upon.  Beyond  doubt  my  captors  were  thor- 
oughly convinced  that  the  cell  in  which  I  was 
confined  was  absolutely  safe.  But  I  was  far  too 
restless  to  remain  quiet;  too  desperate  to  yield 
without  further  effort.  Even  as  my  mind  re- 
viewed, the  night's  adventures,  and  speculated 
on  what  Brandt  might  attempt  now  he  had  me 
safely  under  lock  and  key,  my  eyes  were  anx- 
iously studying  ceiling,  side  walls  and  floor. 
Apparently  these  offered  nothing  of  weakness, 
yet,  as  a  last  resort,  I  pushed  aside  the  cot — 
high  enough  to  have  been  originally  some  sur- 
geon's operating  table — and  made  a  more  care- 
ful scrutiny  of  the  wall  space  behind.  The  eye 
found  nothing,  as  the  bed  shadow  somewhat  ob- 
scured the  cement  surface,  but  my  fingers,  by 
mere  chance,  touched  a  raveled  edge  of  cloth. 
The  raveling  was  so  small  that,  for  a  moment 


TRAPPED  111 

I  esteemed  it  merely  a  thread  accidentally  bedded 
in  the  cement,  yet  some  instinct  led  me  to  at- 
tempt digging  it  out  with  the  point  of  my  knife. 
This  probing  uncovered  a  section  of  coarse  cloth, 
and,  eagerly  enough  now,  I  clipped  it  sufficiently 
free  so  as  to  enable  me  to  obtain  a  firm  grip  upon 
it.  The  result  was  astounding.  The  stout 
cloth  held  in  my  hands,  ripping  upward  and 
across,  showering  broken  cement  on  the  floor, 
and  revealing  an  opening  nearly  three  feet  in 
diameter,  closed  with  wood.  The  meaning  of 
it  all  occurred  to  me  in  a  flash;  there  had  been 
a  dumb  waiter  here  at  some  time;  doubtless  by 
means  of  it  the  poor  devil  confined  had  been  fed. 
Later  the  opening  had  been  closed,  and  boarded 
up,  while,  in  order  that  the  wall  should  look  alike, 
cloth  had  been  tacked  across  to  retain  the  ce- 
ment. This  bit  of  falsework,  unknown  to  the 
care-taker,  Swigert,  had  also  escaped  the  obser- 
vation of  Brandt.  Without  wasting  time  in 
further  speculation  I  began  my  endeavors  to 
loosen  the  boards. 


CHAPTER  IX 

"stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make" 

FORTUNATELY  the  wood  was  pine, 
and  not  thick,  but  even  then  I  must  have 
consumed  twenty  minutes  in  whittling 
out  a  space  sufficiently  long  and  wide  to  admit 
the  muzzle  of  my  revolver.  This,  however,  af- 
forded me  ample  purchase,  and  the  nails  yielded 
almost  noiselessly.  The  first  loosened  board  was 
utilized  as  a  lever  on  its  mates,  and  shortly  gave 
me  ample  space  in  which  to  explore.  A  very 
brief  groping  in  the  dark  hole  proved  my  first 
conjecture  correct.  Not  only  had  this  been  the 
passage  for  a  dumb  waiter  from  some  upper 
floor,  but  the  waiter  itself  had  been  left  there, 
resting  on  the  stone  foundation.  I  felt  upward 
as  far  as  possible,  discovering  the  contrivance 
had  no  cover,  except  iron  braces  to  which  a  rope 
had  been  fastened.  I  could  even  feel  the  frayed 
end  of  a  knot,   but  was  unable  to  reach  far 

enough  to  determine  if  the  rope  itself  remained 

112 


NOT  A  PRISON  113 

intact.  If  not,  or  if  it  proved  insecurely  fas- 
tened at  the  upper  end,  my  discovery  was  likely 
to  be  valueless,  as  the  walls  of  the  passage  were 
of  matched  wood,  smooth  from  long  usage.  To 
scale  the  shaft  unaided  would  be  impossible. 

To  get  inside  was  not  so  difficult,  but  it 
required  persistence  and  labor  to  discover  a  pas- 
sage, through  the  iron  network  above.  I  wig- 
gled and  squeezed  my  way  up  at  last,  but  con- 
fident I  could  never  get  back  unaided,  and,  with 
beating  heart,  tested  the  strand  of  rope.  It 
held;  even  to  my  heaviest  pulling  it  appeared 
firmly  attached  somewhere  above  in  the  intense 
darkness.  I  hung  upon  it  with  my  full  weight, 
but  there  was  no  yielding  to  the  strain.  Thank- 
ful for  a  gymnastic  training  which  made  such  a 
feat  possible,  I  went  up  slowly,  hand  over  hand. 
I  could  see  nothing,  but  must  have  made  fifteen 
or  eighteen  feet,  when  my  groping  hand  encoun- 
tered the  upper  beam.  Wrapping  the  rope 
about  my  leg  in  partial  support  I  explored  my 
surroundings  by  sense  of  touch.  The  rope's  end 
was  wrapped  about  the  beam  and  tied,  a  loop 
dangling.  I  crept  into  this,  assured  of  its  sup- 
port, and  began  to  feel  for  some  opening  in  the 


114  THE  AIR  PILOT 

side  wall.  There  must  be  one,  unless  it  also  had 
been  sealed,  which  would  be  improbable,  yet  so 
closely  did  the  slide  fit,  that  I  must  have  passed 
over  it  a  dozen  times  before  my  ringers  detected 
the  crack.  Only  that  I  had  determined  upon 
which  side  it  must  be,  and  persevered  in  the 
search,  I  should  have  failed  in  uncovering  it. 
Once  found,  however,  and  pried  with  my  knife 
blade  the  door  slid  aside  easily  enough,  but  re- 
vealed nothing  except  darkness  beyond. 

There  was  no  light,  no  noise,  and,  encouraged 
by  this,  I  managed  to  swing  my  loop  close 
enough  so  as  to  reach  in  through  the  opening, 
and  gain  grip  on  the  edge  of  a  shelf.  This  en- 
abled me  to  drag  my  body  slowly  forward,  al- 
though the  narrowness  of  the  opening  caused 
discomfort,  until  I  kicked  the  loop  free,  and  let 
myself  down  gently  on  the  floor.  It  was  uncar- 
peted,  and  in  the  darkness,  I  felt  the  outlines  of 
a  gas  range,  and  knew  I  was  in  a  kitchen. 
Fearful  of  making  some  noise  I  moved  with  cau- 
tion, discovering  a  window,  with  blinds  tightly 
closed,  and  a  large  table,  with  some  odds  and 
ends  upon  it,  including  two  empty  cans,  and 
finally  came  to  a  door,  latched  but  unlocked. 


NOT  A  PRISON  115 

This  I  opened  noiselessly,  an  inch  at  a  time,  and 
peered  out  into  the  hall.  Far  in  the  distance 
to  my  left  was  a  faint  glimmer  of  light,  barely 
visible.  Even  this  dim  illumination,  to  my  eyes, 
trained  by  groping  through  the  dark,  rendered 
much  visible,  although  distorted  and  grotesque. 
In  a  vague  way  I  knew  where  I  was,  on  the  fir,st 
floor,  at  the  back  of  the  house,  and  felt  convinced 
the  light  must  stream  forth  from  the  same  room 
into  which  I  had  been  first  taken.  Possibly 
Brandt  had  returned  there,  or  Franzen.  In 
either  case  it  would  be  best  for  me  to  avoid  that 
portion  of  the  house. 

My  sole  thought  was  of  escape;  of  getting 
safely  away,  and  warning  my  men  at  the  hangar. 
I  might  be  already  too  late,  but  every  wasted 
second  added  to  the  danger.  I  could  only  guess 
at  Brandt's  plans,  whether  he  had  faith  enough 
in  my  final  yielding  to  refrain  from  other  meas- 
ures, or  whether  he  would  venture  at  once  to  win 
his  end  by  force.  He  had  my  keys,  and,  so  far 
as  I  knew,  there  was  nothing  to  prevent  his  en- 
tering the  hangar,  except  the  faithfulness  of  De 
Vigne.  Ramon  had  already  yielded  to  weak- 
ness, and,  if  Eisenbarth's  report  was  true  as 


116  THE  AIR  PILOT 

overheard,  one,  at  least,  of  the  Pinkerton  watch, 
had  been  easily  bought.  If  it  was  his  turn  for 
duty,  the  conspirators  should  find  easy  sailing 
and  small  danger  with  only  one  man  to  oppose 
them,  and  he,  doubtless,  unsuspecting  of  their 
purpose.  This  situation  obscured  all  else  to  my 
mind.  It  was  not  that  I  valued  my  discovery 
so  highly;  in  very  truth  I  considered  the  price 
offered  in  excess  of  its  real  importance;  I  could 
have  laughed  at  the  Germans  for  paying  so 
highly  for  so  simple  an  invention;  but  that  was 
not  the  point.  I  was  a  French  officer,  intrusted 
by  my  government  with  a  military  secret,  even 
warned  to  guard  it  with  my  life.  I  was  here 
under  orders  which  involved  what  I  valued  more 
highly  than  all  else — my  honor.  I  was  pledged 
to  preserve  the  unknown  element  in  the  Dessaud 
monoplane  from  others.  This  was  the  single 
thought  which  for  the  moment  obsessed  me,  mak- 
ing me  forgetful  even  of  the  girl  also  a  prisoner, 
and  for  my  sake. 

I  am  ashamed  now  of  the  selfishness  which  ac- 
tuated me,  but  tell  the  story  as  it  occurred.  My 
one  dominant  purpose  was  to  escape,  and  over- 
throw Brandt's  plans.     I  crept  to  the  right,  away 


NOT  A  PRISON  117 

from  the  light,  testing  windows  and  doors,  only 
to  discover  the  former  boarded  up,  the  latter  se- 
curely locked  and  keyless.  They  could  not  be 
forced  open  noiselessly,  and  to  attempt  such  a 
thing  would  bring  the  whole  pack  upon  me.  Ap- 
parently the  only  way  out  was  through  the  area 
door  by  which  we  had  entered.  As  I  stood  there 
again  in  the  hall,  hesitating  and  doubtful  I 
heard  the  chug  of  the  motor  outside,  the  sound 
growing  fainter.  Someone  had  left  the  house 
— Brandt  probably — or  else  the  chauffeur  had 
been  dispatched  upon  an  urgent  errand.  At 
least  there  would  be  one  less  on  guard.  Heart- 
ened by  this  knowledge,  and  driven  to  action  by 
the  thought  that  at  any  moment  that  cell  in  the 
basement  might  be  invaded,  and  my  disappear- 
ance discovered,  I  crept  forward  toward  the 
single  gleam  of  light.  To  attain  the  opening  I 
must  pass  this,  and  braced  myself  for  the  ordeal. 
The  carpeted  hall  rendered  my  approach  noise- 
less, while  I  could  see  well  enough  to  avoid  the 
few  articles  of  furniture.  To  my  left  were 
broad  stairs  leading  upward;  to  the  right  the 
lighted  room  with  door  ajar,  and  beyond  the  pas- 
sage to  the  area. 


118  THE  AIR  PILOT 

Breathless  I  glanced  into  the  illumined  apart- 
ment, perceiving  no  evidence  that  it  was  occu- 
pied. I  could  see  the  table,  and  two-thirds  of  the 
room,  and,  encouraged,  advanced  a  step  further  so 
as  to  survey  every  nook  and  cranny.  There  was 
no  one  there,  unless  hidden  by  the  folds  of  drap- 
ery which  concealed  the  alcove.  There  was  no 
noise  in  the  house,  the  silence  profound,  and  I 
slipped  through  the  door,  and  drew  aside  the 
curtain;  the  alcove  was  also  vacant.  There  was 
no  doubt  in  my  mind  now  as  to  what  had  oc- 
curred. Satisfied  that  I  was  helplessly  sealed 
in  the  cell  below,  both  Brandt  and  Franzen  had 
departed,  leaving  Swigert  alone  on  watch.  They 
did  not  purpose  being  absent  long,  or  this  light 
would  have  been  extinguished,  but  for  the  mo- 
ment I  was  free,  with  nothing  to  fear.  I  was 
standing  there  still,  one  hand  grasping  the  por- 
tiere draperies,  when  I  heard  a  voice  in  the  hall. 
Instantly  I  sprang  back  behind  the  folds, 
crouching  low,  yet  able  to  peer  out  through  the 
slit  of  the  curtain.  Franzen  and  Swigert  en- 
tered, the  latter  with  an  automatic  rifle  in  his 
hands,  which  he  leaned  against  the  wall.  Fran- 
zen stretched  himself  on  the  sofa,  smoking,  and 


NOT  A  PRISON  119 

it  was  clear  enough  that  both  men  had  been 
drinking. 

"That  was  good  stuff,  Carl,  and  plenty  more 
of  it,  you  say?"  he  ejaculated  in  German. 
"No;  not  now.  Brandt  would  raise  hades  if  he 
knew  about  it,  and  he  might  jump  back  here 
any  minute.  I  know  where  I  get  butter  for  my 
bread." 

"Where  's  he  gone,  anyhow?" 

"Search  me.  All  he  said  was,  'Stay  here,  and 
keep  awake ;  I  '11  be  back  later.'  That 's  his 
way;  he  never  tells  his  plans.  Obey  orders, 
draw  your  pay,  and  let  him  do  the  thinking. 
I  've  been  with  him  five  years  now,  and  have  got 
through  asking  questions.  It 's  no  use,  an'  only 
gets  him  down  on  you.  By  God,  I  'd  kill  a  man 
now,  if  he  said  so,  and  never  ask  the  reason ;  I  'd 
know  it  would  be  all  right." 

"That  fellow  is  n't  dead,  is  he?"  and  there  was 
a  certain  accent  of  horror  in  Swigert's  voice. 

"Of  course  not;  dead  drunk  is  all.  No  need 
of  killing  that  kind — brandy  will  do  the  business 
easier.  But  the  Captain  ain't  afraid  of  the  other 
way,  when  it  is  necessary.  He  's  as  cold  and 
hard  as  a  rock.    There  's  the  only  man  I  was  ever 


120  THE  AIR  PILOT 

afraid  of  in  my  life,  Swigert ;  that 's  a  fact.  If 
ever  I  went  back  on  him  he  'd  break  out  of  hell 
to  kill  me.  I  know  it,  and  ain't  taking  any 
chances."  He  glanced  about  uneasily.  "You 
better  go  back  on  guard." 

"Oh,  what's  the  use?  The  fellow  is  safe 
enough  in  there,  and  the  Captain  can't  get  back 
without  our  hearing  the  car.  He  's  the  same 
Brandt  that  used  to  be  in  the  Fifth  Huzzars,  is 
he?" 

"Yes — Captain ;  the  story  is — that  was  all  be- 
fore my  time — he  was  dismissed  the  service  for 
killing  a  Major  over  a  card  game.  I  've  heard 
there  was  a  woman  involved,  and  a  dirty  scandal. 
Anyhow  he  dropped  out  of  sight  for  a  while, 
and  then,  all  of  a  sudden,  made  his  reappear- 
ance in  the  secret  service.  I  've  heard  the 
Kaiser  took  his  part.  Anyhow  the  war  office 
gave  him  plenty  of  work.  He  served  a  year  in 
the  French  army,  and  there  's  some  awful  hard 
stories  about  what  he  's  done.  First  time  I  saw 
him  was  in  Hungary  five  years  ago,  and  I  've 
been  with  him,  off  and  on,  ever  since.  There 
is  n't  anything  he  's  afraid  to  do,  under  orders. 
He  knows  how  to  get  results." 


NOT  A  PRISON  121 

"Schmitt  got  me  into  this;  he  knows  him." 

"Yes,  Brandt  told  me  they  were  in  the  army 
together;  funny  little  devil;  scared  half  to 
death." 

"Well,  I  ain't  any  too  easy  being  mixed  up  in 
the  affair  myself.  It 's  all  right  for  you  fel- 
lows, able  to  leave  the  country,  and  keep  out  of 
sight,  but  we  're  running  some  risk  if  this  French- 
man ever  gets  out  and  squeals." 

"You  're  getting  paid  for  it — more  money 
than  you  have  earned  in  a  year — and  this  won't 
be  the  first  Parley-voo  you  've  handled." 

"  'T  ain't  because  I  care  about  that  fellow,  but 
I  got  to  live  here ;  I  'm  an  American  citizen,  and 
don't  want  to  get  into  any  trouble.  What 's 
Brandt  going  to  do  with  him?" 

Franzen  shook  his  head. 

"That  depends  on  what  the  fellow  does  for 
Brandt.  But  you  have  n't  any  cause  to  worry 
— the  Captain  knows  what  he  is  about." 

"Maybe  he  does.  Of  course  I  know  he  is 
smart,  but  the  best  of  them  makes  mistakes. 
There  's  that  girl  now ;  he  's  going  to  have  a  time 
of  it  keeping  her  still." 

Franzen  sat  up  suddenly,  eyes  snapping. 


122  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"I  'd  forgotten  her.  There  '11  be  no  danger 
of  her  wanting  to  talk  when  she  does  get  out. 
We  've  learned  how  to  keep  a  woman  quiet. 
Mighty  pretty  girl — this  one — hey?" 

"I  didn't  get  to  see  her,"  admitted  Swigert 
regretfully. 

"I  did;  she  was  with  the  Frenchman  at  the 
cafe.  Now  Carl,  you  take  my  advice  and  go 
back  on  guard.  I  know  the  Captain,  and  he 
won't  have  any  mercy  if  he  ever  catches  you  up 
here." 

The  care-taker  picked  up  his  gun,  but  loitered 
at  the  door. 

"I  '11  take  a  bottle  with  me  then;  it 's  mighty 
lonesome  down  there." 

"I  don't  care  what  you  take,  so  you  keep  sober 
enough  to  escape  the  notice  of  Brandt.  Bring 
me  one  here  first,  will  you ;  I  've  got  to  keep 
awake." 

I  could  hear  Swigert  pass  behind  me  along 
the  hall,  while  Franzen  stretched  himself  back 
on  the  sofa,  and  waited.  I  straightened  up,  but 
made  no  noise ;  somewhere  out  of  sight,  I  heard  a 
clock  tick.  Then  the  care-taker  returned,  and 
placed  a  pint  bottle  on  the  table.     Franzen,  lying 


NOT  A  PRISON  123 

with  hands  beneath  his  head,  staring  up  at  the 
ceiling,  paid  no  apparent  attention. 

"There  's  your  stuff,"  the  other  said  shortly. 
"Where  did  Brandt  go?  do  you  know?" 

"He  did  n't  tell  me,  but  maybe  I  could  guess 
if  I  had  to.  It  *s  my  idea  he 's  after  the  fellow's 
valises.  The  best  thing  you  can  do  will  be  to 
get  back  down  stairs." 

"All  right;  I  'm  going." 

He  disappeared,  and,  after  listening  for  a 
moment  to  make  certain  he  was  alone,  Fran- 
zen  stepped  across  to  the  table,  and  poured  him- 
self out  a  stiff  drink.  He  stood  there  muttering 
to  himself  in  German,  and  then  indulged  in  an- 
other, finally  concealing  the  bottle  behind  some 
bric-a-brac  on  the  mantle.  The  liquor  did  not 
seem  to  greatly  affect  him,  for  he  paced  the  room 
twice  steadily  enough,  although  his  face  was 
flushed,  and  he  muttered  to  himself;  this  was  in 
German,  and  so  indistinct  I  could  barely  dis- 
tinguish isolated  words. 

"An  hour  yet — not  two  o'clock — pretty — 
bah!  What  do  I  care — free  enough  with  others 
— picked  up  Dessaud — might  try  my  luck  too 
— afraid?    I  guess  not — I  can  shut  her  mouth 


124  THE  AIR  PILOT 

— and  his  too,  if  it  comes  to  that — won't  do  any 
harm  to  see." 

He  glanced  out  into  the  hall,  turning  his  face 
so  as'to  look  both  ways;  then  advanced  to  the 
head  of  the  basement  stairs.  By  stepping  for- 
ward slightly  I  could  see  that  far,  and  watched 
him  lean  over  the  railing  and  listen  for  some 
sound  of  Swigert  below.  Apparently  satisfied 
he  turned  away,  and  disappeared  to  the  left. 
Where  he  was  going  and  what  was  his  purpose, 
I  could  only  conjecture,  yet  his  vague  mutterings 
had  given  me  a  clue — they  must  refer  to  Made- 
moiselle Probyn.  I  had  not  forgotten  her  pres- 
ence, but  rather  she  had  been  forced  out  of  my 
mind  by  the  importance  of  my  own  peril.  I  had 
not  before  conceived  that  she  was  also  in  dan- 
ger. But  now  the  situation  assumed  a  totally 
different  aspect.  If  Franzen  in  liquor  sought 
her,  taking  advantage  of  Brandt's  absence,  my 
escape  from  the  house  became  of  secondary  im- 
portance. Whatever  might  have  brought  her 
into  this  serious  predicament — whether  zeal  as 
a  newspaper  woman,  or  personal  interest  in  me 
— made  no  difference.  She  was  a  woman,  a  most 
charming  woman,  as  I  was  ready  to  admit,  and 


NOT  A  PRISON  125 

I  could  never  leave  her  unprotected  to  the  scant 
mercy  of  such  a  wretch  as  Franzen.  What  the 
latter  might  do  or  attempt,  I  could  only  con- 
jecture, yet  I  felt  the  fellow  was  sufficiently  un- 
der the  influence  of  liquor  to  be  dangerous.  All 
this  flashed  over  me  in  an  instant,  as  I  realized  he 
had  vanished  in  the  direction  of  the  flight  of 
stairs  leading  to  the  upper  floor. 

I  crept  to  the  door,  and  looked  out  cautiously. 
Franzen  was  just  disappearing  around  the  bal- 
uster above,  a  dim  moving  figure.  He  seemed 
to  pause,  and  I  quickly  drew  back,  convinced 
that  he  was  leaning  over  the  rail,  staring  down, 
to  make  certain  he  was  unobserved — that  Swi- 
gert  remained  on  duty  in  the  basement.  His 
cat-like  caution,  and  watchfulness,  convinced  me 
afresh  his  purpose  must  be  an  evil  one.  In  the 
full  glow  of  the  light  I  dare  not  move,  until  my 
ears,  strained  to  the  utmost,  told  me  he  had 
changed  his  position,  was  feeling  his  way  slowly 
along  the  upper  hall.  Then  I  slipped  forth 
silently,  almost  holding  my  breath,  and  stole  up 
the  carpeted  steps,  pressing  close  against  the 
darker  shadow  of  the  wall.  The  night  hung 
black  enough  at  the  top,  and  the  passageway  was 


126  THE  AIR  PILOT 

so  strange  to  me  that  I  was  compelled  to  grope 
my  way  forward.  Franzen  had  turned  toward 
the  front  of  the  house,  and  I  took  the  same  di- 
rection, barely  avoiding  a  couch  against  the  side- 
wall,  and  feeling  out  a  passage  inch  by  inch. 
Twice  I  stopped  to  listen,  but  met  with  no  re- 
ward. Then  I  came  to  a  sharp  corner,  the  hall 
turning  abruptly  to  the  left,  revealing  a  light 
streaming  through  a  narrow  transom.  Even  as 
I  caught  its  reflection  the  door  opened  suddenly, 
and  a  man's  figure  disappeared  within.  I 
thought  I  distinguished  a  startled  exclamation, 
but  the  door  closed  so  quickly  as  to  shut  it  off 
unrecognized.  I  ran  forward,  then  stopped, 
striving  to  distinguish  what  was  occurring  behind 
that  barrier. 


CHAPTER  X 

MISS   PROBYN   DEFIES  DANGEE 

THE  key  was  outside  in  the  lock,  proof 
enough  that  Franzen  realized  the  need 
of  haste,  and  had  wasted  no  time  in  at- 
taining entrance.  Once  within  he  felt  capable 
of  preventing  any  escape,  and  he  had  no  fear  of 
being  followed.  The  transom  was  closed,  but, 
with  ear  held  close  to  the  wood,  I  could  distin- 
guish voices,  and  even  pick  out  fragments  of 
speech.  Trusting  they  were  both  too  excited  to 
be  observant  I  ventured  to  remove  the  key, 
dropping  it  into  my  pocket,  and  staring  through 
the  aperture.  I  could  perceive  quite  a  section  of 
the  room,  and  their  words  reached  me  now 
clearly. 

She  stood  facing  him  fully  dressed,  but  with 
the  loose  coat  discarded  and  flung  over  the  foot 
of  the  bed,  the  coverlet  of  which  appeared  ruffled, 
as  though  she  had  been  lying  down,  perhaps 
sleeping.     If  so  she  was  certainly  wide  awake 

127 


128  THE  AIR  PILOT 

enough  now,  judging  from  the  flash  of  her  eyes, 
and  glow  of  color  in  her  cheeks.  For  the  first 
time  I  realized  her  beauty,  or  else  suddenly  per- 
ceived it  with  new  eyes — the  rounded  firmness  of 
chin,  the  red  fullness  of  lips,  the  shapely  nose,  so 
expressive  of  character,  the  deep,  earnest  eyes, 
that  could  laugh  so  easily,  or  glow  with  indigna- 
tion, the  long  lashes,  and  the  broad  forehead 
shadowed  by  a  mass  of  hair.  It  was  a  witching 
face,  piquant,  ever  changing  in  expression,  yet 
reflecting  strength  of  purpose,  and  purity  of 
thought. 

"Then  why  are  you  here?"  she  asked,  as  if  re- 
peating the  question.  "You  have  not  answered 
me.  The  outrage  of  holding  me  a  prisoner  is 
surely  enough,  without  the  indignity  of  this  in- 
sult." 

"Oh  come  now,  don't  be  afraid." 

"Afraid!"  scornfully,  "I  am  not  afraid — not  of 
you.  I  might  be  of  your  master,  but  I  've  met 
enough  of  your  kind  to  recognize  the  breed." 

"You  think  so!"  his  voice  proving  she  had  an- 
gered him,  inflamed  his  passion.  "Well,  you  bet- 
ter be  more  pleasant  about  it,  or  you  may 
discover  your  mistake.     Mind  that,   Miss,   for 


DEFIES  DANGER  129 

there  is  no  one  in  this  house  to  help  you  if  I  took 
a  whim  to  be  ugly.     Do  you  know  who  I  am?" 

"The  jailor  probably;  one  of  Brandt's  hired 
men.  Yes,  I  know  you — you  were  at  the  cafe, 
and  took  part  in  that  fake  fight.  But  I  do  not 
in  the  least  care  who  you  are.  I  want  to  know 
what  you  are  doing  in  this  room?" 

Franzen  took  a  step  aside,  so  as  to  get  beyond 
the  barrier  of  a  small  table,  giving  me  a  glimpse 
of  his  face.  It  was  red  with  liquor,  and  his  eyes 
were  ugly.  Whatever  he  might  have  expected, 
this  reception  was  not  quite  to  his  liking,  and  he 
was  already  in  quarrelsome  mood.  She  never 
moved  from  her  position,  her  eyes  on  his  face,  one 
hand  held  behind  her. 

"You  remain  where  you  are,"  she  said  quietly, 
"unless  you  care  to  get  hurt." 

"To  hell  with  your  threats;  Brandt  searched 
you,  I  saw  him.  Now  look  here,  my  lady, 
there's  no  use  fighting,"  and  he  held  out  his 
hands.  "I  'm  stronger  than  three  of  you,  and 
could  crush  the  life  out  of  you  if  I  took  the  no- 
tion. I  'm  the  boss  here,  and  you  are  a  blamed 
fool  if  you  make  me  mad." 

"Where  is  Captain  Brandt?" 


130  THE  AIR  PILOT 

He  chuckled  grimly. 

"He  's  gone ;  that 's  enough  for  you  to  know, 
and  I  'm  in  charge  here.  What 's  the  use  of 
your  being  so  ugly  about  it?  Maybe  I  ain't 
as  damned  handsome  as  that  Frenchman  you  're 
running  after,  but  I  'm  just  as  much  of  a  man." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  her  face  flaming. 
"That  I  have  been  seeking  Monsieur  Dessaud?" 

"Good  Lord!  haven't  you?  Isn't  that  what 
brought  you  into  this  fix?" 

"Nol"  and  I  could  see  her  form  straighten. 
"Now  pay  attention  to  me,  Franzen,  and  let  this 
affair  end.  I  am  not  the  kind  of  a  woman  for 
such  an  insult;  I  am  not  in  that  class.  If  you 
have  come  here  tonight  under  that  impression 
you  better  go  away  at  once.  I  do  not  threaten, 
but  I  warn  you  that  if  you  venture  to  so  much 
as  lay  hand  on  me,  I  '11  kill  you.  I  mean  that ! 
So  you  thought  I  was  running  after  Lieutenant 
Dessaud,  did  you?  That  was  why  you  dared  un- 
lock this  door,  and  force  your  way  in  here?  You 
are  the  very  kind  of  cur  to  put  that  construc- 
tion on  it — " 

"Maybe  I  '11  teach  you  yet,"  he  broke  in 
fiercely,  "to  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  your  head." 


DEFIES  DANGER  131 

"You  can  never  teach  me  not  to  despise  your 
kind,"  she  went  on  stoutly.  "And  first  you  '11 
learn  that  I  am  not  afraid  of  you.  You  are  a 
coward,  Franzen,  a  sneaking  coward.  The  only 
thing  that  has  given  you  courage  enough  to  come 
up  here  is  whiskey.  Don't  deny ;  I  can  smell  the 
stuff  from  here.  Whiskey  courage  never  made 
any  hit  with  me.  Now,  listen;  I  am  not  your 
kind  of  a  woman.  Probably  you  are  not  even 
acquainted  with  my  kind,  but  you  are  going  to 
discover  something  new  tonight.  Do  you  know 
how  I  chanced  to  be  in  Lieutenant  Dessaud's 
company  last  evening?" 

"Sure  I  do — you  picked  him  up  on  the  street." 
"And  therefore  you  jumped  to  conclusions. 
Well,  as  it  happens,  there  is  more  to  the  story 
than  that.  I  do  not  in  the  least  care  what  you 
think;  nevertheless  I  am  going  to  tell  you  the 
circumstances.  I  am  a  newspaper  woman,  a  re- 
porter on  the  Press.  I  am  under  orders  just  as 
a  soldier  is,  and  must  go  where  I  am  told.  The 
assignments  given  me  are  not  always  pleasant 
ones  but  I  have  no  choice  in  the  matter.  My 
city  editor  decides  that.  Do  you  understand? 
One  can  still  remain  a  true  woman  in  the  news- 


132  THE  AIR  PILOT 

paper  life — respecting  herself,  and  respected  by- 
others — and  yet  be  no  prude,  or  slave  to  the  con- 
ventions.    She  must  obey  orders." 

He  nodded  sullenly,  without  moving. 

"Very  well;  I  was  sent  out  by  my  city  editor 
to  interview  Lieutenant  Dessaud.  Others  had 
failed,  and  I  was  given  specific  instructions  how 
to  succeed.  The  task  was  not  a  pleasant  one;  it 
involved  deceit;  for  the  time  at  least,  it  placed 
me  in  a  false  position.  If  he  had  not  been  a  gen- 
tleman it  might  have  proven  most  embarrassing. 
However  the  moment  I  looked  into  his  face  I 
knew  I  was  safe.  Moreover  that  same  moment 
I  became  his  friend,  anxious  to  be  of  service." 

She  stopped,  breathing  swiftly,  waiting  for 
him  to  speak,  but  the  man  remained  silent. 

"I  took  this  assignment  exactly  as  I  would  any 
other.  There  were  circumstances  connected  with 
it  that  seemed  peculiar — my  instructions  relative 
to  taking  the  Lieutenant  to  the  Cafe  Francois, 
for  instance,  and  the  methods  I  should  use  to 
gain  his  interest — yet  the  newspaper  game  is 
played  in  so  many  ways,  that  one  is  not  easily 
alarmed,  and — it  was  my  duty  to  obey  orders 
as  in  any  ordinary  case." 


DEFIES  DANGER  133 

She  clasped  her  hands  in  sudden  gesture,  and 
Franzen  laughed. 

"That 's  where  you  gave  yourself  away,  my 
beauty." 

"I!    Explain  yourself!" 

"That  hand  you  held  behind  you  all  the  time; 
I  thought,  maybe,  you  retained  a  gun  Brandt 
had  n't  found." 

"Oh,  so  that  was  the  cause  of  your  politeness." 

"Partly;  for  I  don't  care  nothing  about  your 
story — why  should  I?"  his  tone  growing 
rougher,  now  he  was  again  assured  of  her  help- 
lessness. "Besides  I  haven't  got  time  to  hear 
it.  That 's  all  you  're  telling  it  for — hoping 
someone  will  come  up,  and  help  you.  Well,  let 
me  tell  you,  Miss,  plain;  there  ain't  no  one  to 
come.  The  care-taker  and  I  are  the  only  ones 
in  the  house,  and  he  's  down  in  the  basement 
guarding  the  Frenchman.  You  could  scream 
your  head  off,  and  never  be  heard." 

"Do  you  threaten  to  attack  me?" 

"I  don't  see  no  reason.  You  haven't  fooled 
me  any  by  what  you  've  said.  Of  course  I  know 
you  are  a  reporter  on  the  Press,  but  it 's  my  no- 
tion old  Schmitt  never  would  have  picked  you 


134  THE  AIR  PILOT 

out  for  this  job  if  he  had  n't  sized  you  up  right. 
You  met  the  Frenchman  on  the  street,  didn't 
you,  and  then  went  to  dinner  with  him?  Then 
you  steered  him  down  to  Francois,  which  is  n't 
exactly  the  place  for  a  little  Sunday  school  girl. 
Come  on,  now,  don't  pretend  to  be  so  awfully 
nice,  and  exclusive.  I  don't  want  any  rough 
house,  but  you  can't  throw  any  more  dust  in  my 
eyes." 

"You  pretend  that  my  explanation  is  false?" 

"Oh,  you  're  not  such  a  wonder,  as  to  hold  me 
at  arm's  length.  Come  on,  now ;  I  'm  no  fool, 
and  don't  propose  being  treated  like  one." 

He  stepped  forward,  and  she  drew  back  to- 
ward the  farther  wall.  She  was  not  afraid  of 
him,  I  could  see  that,  for  the  expression  on  her 
face  was  disgust  and  indignation,  yet  she  was  un- 
armed, while  I  was  certain  Franzen  had  a  re- 
volver concealed  somewhere. 

"No!"  she  said  clearly.  "No;  you  shall  not 
touch  me." 

She  slipped  about  the  table,  and  he  followed 
her  blindly,  so  assured  of  his  final  victory  as  to 
become  careless.  With  a  swift  movement  she  at- 
tained the   door  and  grasped   the   knob.     The 


DEFIES  DANGER  135 

same  instant  the  fellow,  uttering  an  oath,  gripped 
her  sleeve,  hurling  her  to  one  knee.  But,  even 
as  she  fell,  she  flung  open  the  door,  and  I  leaped 
through  into  the  room.  Her  body  was  in  the 
way,  permitting  Franzen  to  straighten  up  before 
I  could  reach  him.  Even  then  my  one  control- 
ling thought  was  to  prevent  his  shooting.  The 
fellow  was  about  my  size  and  strength,  yet  my 
only  fear  was  of  his  weapon.  If  I  could  keep 
him  from  drawing  that  I  felt  confident  of  the 
result  of  the  struggle.  So  astonished  was  he  by 
my  unexpected  appearance  that  I  had  my  grip 
before  he  could  spring  aside,  or  make  any  effort 
at  escape.  In  an  instant  we  were  locked  in  each 
other's  arms,  crunched  tightly  together,  and 
swaying  back  and  forth  in  mad  effort  at  mastery 
> — he  striving  to  break  free,  and  I  to  hold  him 
helpless.  His  very  cowardice  made  him  fiend- 
ish when  once  trapped,  and  those  first  fierce  mo- 
ments of  struggle  brought  to  me  a  sensation  of 
defeat.  He  fought  with  tooth  and  nail,  exhibit- 
ing a  strength  I  had  not  supposed  he  possessed, 
while  the  drink  in  him  gave  an  insane  cunning. 
In  spite  of  all  I  could  do  I  was  hurled  back 
against  the  table,  which  crashed  to  the  floor  bear- 


136  THE  AIR  PILOT 

ing  us  both  with  it.  Yet  no  effort  on  his  part 
loosened  my  grip,  not  even  then,  although  like 
a  savage  dog,  he  buried  his  teeth  in  my  shoulder. 
The  pain  infuriated  me,  and  I  managed  to  re- 
taliate by  planting  a  knee  in  his  stomach,  loosen- 
ing the  grip  of  his  jaws  by  driving  my  head 
against  his  chin. 

Except  that  he  swore  once  in  German  neither 
uttered  a  sound,  but  he  possessed  the  advantage 
of  knowing  I  was  unarmed.  Assured  of  this  he 
worked  one  arm  free,  and  struck  me  again  and 
again,  forcing  my  head  back  until  I  was  obliged 
to  release  my  hold  in  self-defense.  Instantly  the 
fellow  was  upon  his  feet,  tugging  at  his  revolver, 
a  malicious  grin  on  his  face.  With  all  my  force 
I  flung  myself  head  first  forward,  striking  him 
like  a  catapult,  with  the  full  weight  of  my  body. 
He  went  over,  crashing  against  the  window  ledge, 
and  dropped  limp  on  the  floor,  the  weapon  fly- 
ing from  his  hand  undischarged.  Without  wait- 
ing to  see  the  result,  half  dazed  myself  by  the 
violence  of  the  blow  struck,  I  crept  across,  and 
secured  it;  then  struggled  to  my  feet,  reeling 
dizzily  from  pain,  everything  blurred  before  me. 
The  girl  was  erect,  grasping  the  knob  of  the 


xW^aa 


He  fought 


exhibiting  a  strength  I  had  not  supposed 
he  possessed 


DEFIES  DANGER  137 

door,  as  though  half  inclined  to  flee,  yet  hesi- 
tating, and  staring  back  at  us  both.  I  barely- 
glanced  toward  her,  gripping  a  chair  to  keep  me 
erect,  gazing  at  Franzen's  motionless  body 
through  a  purple  haze.  I  could  not  determine 
that  he  did  not  move,  and  advanced  slowly,  the 
weapon  held  ready  to  cover  him.  Aware  that 
she  had  moved  toward  me,  I  reached  down  and 
turned  his  head  so  that  his  white  face  was  up- 
ward. As  my  fingers  touched  him  I  realized  the 
man  was  dead. 


CHAPTER  XI 

FRESH   COMPLICATIONS 

THE  shock  of  this  discovery  left  me  speech- 
less; I  could  only  grope  for  the  man's 
heart  with  merciless  fingers.  It  did  not 
seem  possible  that  he  could  be  actually  dead. 
Yet  the  fact  was  beyond  dispute.  Half  aware 
of  her  presence  I  looked  up,  and  met  her  eyes. 

"What  is  it?  Tell  me;  has — has  he  been 
killed?" 

"Yes,"  and  I  found  strength  to  arise.  "He — 
he  must  have  struck  the  sharp  casing  of  the  win- 
dow— see,  his  skull  is  crushed.  I — I  had  no 
thought—" 

"I  know  that,"  she  interrupted  quietly.  "I 
saw  how  it  happened:  you  could  not  have  done 
otherwise.  He  deserved  it  all,  but — but,"  her 
hands  pressed  to  her  face,  "you  do  not  realize 
what  this  means  to  us — to  us  both." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"His  death  by — by  violence.     Every  power 

138 


FRESH  COMPLICATIONS        139 

on  earth  will  be  invoked  for  vengeance.  His 
government  will  demand,  and  compel,  arrest  and 
conviction.  You  do  not  understand;  you  do  not 
even  know  who  he  was?" 

"No,  only  that  he  was  a  tool  employed  by 
Brandt.  I  heard  him  boast  below  how  long  they 
had  been  together." 

"They  had — yes,"  she  explained,  "but  he  was 
not  a  tool,  an  employee.  Brandt  operated  under 
his  orders.  He  is  connected  with  the  legation  at 
Washington.  Schmitt  told  me  that  after  we  left 
the  Cafe  Francois — not  what  he  was,  not  his  of- 
fice, but  he  is  Baron  von  Franzen,  and  no  mere 
spy  to  be  shuffled  out  of  sight  and  forgotten. 
His  death  will  be  investigated,  probed,  not  with 
any  attempt  at  justice,  but  in  a  determination  to 
convict.  It  will  be  made  a  government  matter, 
and  your  plea  of  self-defense  laughed  at." 

"But  you  saw;  you  can  testify." 

"Do  you  suppose  they  would  give  me  the 
chance!  Monsieur,  I  have  been  an  American 
newspaper  woman  too  long  not  to  know  the 
methods.  It  will  be  revenge,  not  justice  sought, 
and  Brandt  may  be  trusted  to  hush  up  the  facts 
in  the  case.     His  success  depends  on  secrecy, 


140  THE  AIR  PILOT 

and  he  will  take  no  chance  with  the  truth." 

"That  might  be  true — in  Germany;  but  not 
here,  in  free  America." 

"No,"  scornfully;  "you  have  a  foreigner's 
dream  of  the  impossible.  The  difference  is  not 
so  great.  This  country  is  full  of  Germans,  Mon- 
sieur, in  every  rank  of  life.  They  are  good  cit- 
izens, but  there  is  a  mystic  tie  connecting  them 
with  the  Fatherland  which  no  oath  of  allegiance 
to  this  country  can  wholly  sever.  Many  of  them 
have  been  soldiers,  and,  like  Schmitt,  still  re- 
spond to  the  call  of  discipline.  They  are  not 
unjust,  but  Germany  means  native  land.  Silent 
as  such  influence  is,  it  is  nevertheless  marvelously 
strong.     Nor  is  that  all." 

"You  know  more?" 

"I  know  there  is  a  network  of  spies  in  this 
country,  as  well  as  in  Europe.  Perhaps  they  are 
not  so  active,  because  there  is  less  need;  the  jeal- 
ousy between  nations  is  not  so  acute.  But 
Brandt  knows  who  he  can  call  upon  in  this  city, 
if  he  needs  help;  there  are  many  who  will  obey 
his  orders,  if  he  makes  known  his  authority.  Do 
you  suppose  he  will  hesitate  to  act  when  he  learns 
of  this  man's  death?     He  will  never  permit  it 


FRESH  COMPLICATIONS        141 

to  be  made  public;  he  will  revenge  it  himself." 

"With  my  life,  Mademoiselle?"  I  questioned, 
startled,  but  disbelieving.  "That  would  be  too 
dangerous;  I  am  as  well  known,  my  govern- 
ment— " 

"Would  never  know.  There  is  no  place  like 
a  great  city  in  which  to  hide  crime.  I  beg  of 
you,  Monsieur,  do  not  treat  my  warning  lightly. 
Remember  what  these  men  have  dared  do  al- 
ready— to  us  both.  Why  should  they  hesitate  to 
venture  still  farther  ?  You  should  know  what  the 
spy  system  of  Europe  is ;  men  are  not  employed 
in  it  who  are  unwilling  to  risk  their  lives.  It  is 
no  different  here."  She  leaned  toward  me  in 
eagerness,  touching  my  arm.  "I  did  not  know 
all  this  until  tonight,  but  you — you  are  a  French 
officer,  and  have  met  foreign  spies  before — 
have  n't  you?" 

"Yes,"  I  admitted.  "They  are  numerous 
enough  across  the  water." 

"And  if  less  numerous  here,  no  less  danger- 
ous. You  even  knew  of  Captain  Brandt  in  Eu- 
rope?" 

"He  had  been  described  to  me;  some  of  his 
exploits." 


142  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"And  do  you  suppose  his  ocean  voyage  across 
has  greatly  changed  his  nature?" 

I  shook  my  head,  my  glance  turning  from  her 
to  the  dead  face  on  the  floor.  Beyond  doubt  the 
girl  was  right;  the  affair  was  far  more  serious 
than  I  had  at  first  conceived. 

"But — but  how  does  it  happen  you  know  all 
this?"  I  asked.     "You  have  not  lived  abroad." 

"No,"  promptly;  "nor  did  I  know  until  a  few 
hours  ago.  I  had  read  of  such  things  to  be  sure ; 
they  are  in  books  of  romance,  but  I  had  sup- 
posed the  incidents  largely  drawn  from  the  novel- 
ist's imagination.  Tonight  I  was  brought  face 
to  face  with  the  actual  facts.  I  am  a  newspaper 
woman,  Monsieur,  and  we  see  much  that  is 
strange  in  life.  But  this  assignment  was  differ- 
ent; I  suspected  evil  at  once;  I  told  you  so,  and 
warned  you  of  danger.     You  admit  that?" 

"Yes." 

"Yet  even  then  I  did  not  realize  how  far  those 
men  might  go — the  nature  of  their  plot.  What 
occurred  at  the  Cafe  Francois  was  as  great  a 
surprise  to  me  as  to  you.  But  afterward,  when 
they  had  taken  you  away  unconscious,  I  could  not 
rest    without    learning    more.     I    thought    you 


FRESH  COMPLICATIONS        143 

would  deem  me  an  accomplice;  would  believe  I 
had  lured  you  there  treacherously — " 

"I  did  not,"  I  protested  warmly.  "I  held  you 
innocent." 

"I  hoped  you  might,  but  could  not  have  blamed 
had  it  been  otherwise.  It  all  occurred  so  swiftly, 
so  surprisingly,  that  I  was  helpless.  Before  I 
comprehended  the  plan,  you  had  been  spirited 
away,  and  I  was  there  alone,  with  Schmitt  grasp- 
ing my  arm.  A  small  crowd  gathered  asking 
questions,  and  a  policeman  hurried  up.  Schmitt 
was  anxious  to  get  away,  and  I  made  no  resist- 
ance for  it  would  have  been  useless.  I  knew 
nothing  of  where  you  had  been  taken,  and  my 
first  thought  was  to  make  Schmitt  tell.  He  got 
a  cab,  and  took  me  to  my  home.  I  talked  to  him 
on  the  way,  carelessly,  as  though  I  took  the  even- 
ing's adventure  as  a  joke.  This  deceived  him, 
and,  as  I  already  knew  so  much,  he  explained 
Brandt's  purpose.  I  think  he  told  me  all  he 
knew,  for  his  idea  was  they  merely  intended  to 
gain  possession  of  your  papers,  and  then  let  you 
go.  He  explained  about  the  spy  system,  and 
how  he  had  been  drawn  into  the  affair.  He  was 
frightened,  and  begged  me  to  remain  at  home 


144  THE  AIR  PILOT 

until  sent  for.  I  promised,  and  he  left  me 
there." 

I  did  not  speak,  and  her  lowered  eyes  again 
sought  mine  questioningly. 

"I  did  not  feel  bound  by  such  a  promise,  Mon- 
sieur," she  went  on  firmly.  "I  had  betrayed 
you,  and  knew  I  must  make  amends.  Monsieur, 
I  did  not  believe  all  that  he  said;  if  those  men 
would  strike  you  down  thus  in  a  public  place, 
there  was  nothing  too  desperate  for  them  to  at- 
tempt when  they  once  had  you  in  their  power. 
I  could  not  rest,  or  refuse  to  help.  I  did  not 
know  where  they  had  taken  you,  but  Schmitt 
gave  me  a  hint,  and  I  found  them.  It  was  only 
when  you  came  out  of  the  hotel  that  I  was  sure. 
What  happened  after  that  you  know.  I — I 
tried  to  do  what  was  right,  but — but  now  the 
horror  of  it  all,"  and  she  pointed  at  Franzen, 
drawing  her  skirts  closer. 

"You  did  do  what  was  right,"  I  exclaimed, 
"and  not  one  in  a  thousand  would  have  been 
brave  enough  to  venture  it.  You  are  afraid  I 
may  think  you  unwomanly?" 

<$he  shot  a  quick  glance  into  my  eyes,  the  color 
flooding  her  face. 


FRESH  COMPLICATIONS        145 

"You  surely  have  every  reason  to  doubt  me." 

"I  confess  to  none,  Mademoiselle;  I  recognize 
none.     I  am  not  ungrateful." 

"Oh,  I  would  not  care  for  that!  Gratitude! 
Why  I  have  barely  done  my  duty.  Let  us  not 
talk  of  gratitude,  for,  in  truth,  I  have  caused  you 
all  this  trouble.  But  for  me  you  would  never 
have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  these  men;  but  for 
me  this  horrible  affair  could  not  have  happened. 
I  am  the  cause  of  it  all;  you — you  killed  this  man 
to  protect  me  from  insult." 

"I  sought  to  protect  you — yes,  but  the  death 
was  an  accident." 

She  gave  a  swift  gesture  of  impatience. 

"Accident  or  not,  Lieutenant  Dessaud,  I  in- 
sist that  you  treat  this  incident  seriously.  It  is 
serious  for  both  of  us.  Baron  von  Franzen  has 
been  killed ;  he  met  death  at  your  hands,  and  your 
only  hope  of  escape  from  being  charged  with  his 
murder  is  to  leave  Chicago  at  once,  is  to  get  out 
of  the  clutches  of  these  men." 

"But  surely  the  law  would  protect  me  from 
injustice." 

"The  law!"  for  the  first  time  she  laughed  as 
she  had  earlier  in  the  evening.     "What  can  the 


146  THE  AIR  PILOT 

law  have  to  do  with  the  case?  Has  the  law  pre- 
vented your  being  held  prisoner  and  robbed? 
Has  the  law  saved  me  the  humiliation  of  being 
here?"  She  glanced  about  at  the  walls  of  the 
room.  "You  have  escaped  from  the  cell  in 
which  you  were  confined,  but  we  are  still  in  this 
unknown  house  under  guard — prisoners  in 
Brandt's  power.  He  is  the  one  to  fear,  not  only 
now,  while  we  remain  in  his  hands,  but  also  his 
influence  outside.  Have  you  any  idea  where  he 
has  gone?     How  long  he  will  be  away?" 

"I  heard  Franzen  say  he  was  attempting  to  se- 
cure my  valises  from  the  hotel." 

"The  Congress?" 

"Yes." 

"You  signed  no  order?  Then  he  would  be 
compelled  to  forge  one.  No;  perhaps  not;  he 
took  your  keys?  Was  the  room  key  among 
them?" 

I  felt  hastily  through  my  pockets. 

"I  am  not  sure,"  I  answered  in  doubt.  "My 
garments  were  all  searched  while  I  was  uncon- 
scious, but  later  Brandt  returned  what  had  been 
taken.  The  room  key  is  not  here,  but  I  may 
not  have  had  it  with  me." 


FRESH  COMPLICATIONS        147 

She  stood  quiet  thinking,  a  little  wrinkle  be- 
tween her  eyes.  Her  glance  sank  to  the  body  on 
the  floor,  and  she  gave  a  slight  shudder,  turning 
away. 

"  That  makes  little  difference,"  she  admitted 
slowly.  "For  the  man  would  discover  some 
means  for  achieving  his  purpose.  Tell  me  what 
you  know  about  this  house ;  how  you  came  to  be 
here." 

I  related  the  story  swiftly,  and  she  listened 
without  comment  until  I  had  finished. 

"You,  of  course,  have  no  knowledge  of  where 
we  are?    What  part  of  the  city?" 

"I  thought  I  recognized  Michigan  Avenue, 
and  when  we  turned  it  was  to  the  left." 

"The  South  Side — in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
lake  shore.  I  thought  so,  although  I  was 
brought  here  with  curtains  tightly  drawn.  Then, 
if  you  are  right,  Monsieur,  only  one  of  the  gang 
is  left  in  the  house — the  man  Swigert?" 

"Yes." 

"And  he  is  on  guard  in  the  basement." 

"He  was.     I  will  creep  down  now,  and  dis- 
cover if  the  passage  is  clear." 

"No,"  and  she  caught  my  arm.     "We  will  go 


148  THE  AIR  PILOT 

together.     I — I  could  not  remain  here  alone." 

At  the  door  she  drew  her  breath  sharply, 
glancing  back  into  the  lighted  room. 

"Shall  we  leave  him  lying  there  just — just  as 
he  is?"  she  asked,  her  lips  quivering.  "It  seems 
heathenish." 

"We  have  ourselves  to  consider,  not  Franzen," 
I  returned  not  unkindly,  but  fully  aroused  now 
to  the  situation,  and  drawing  her  with  me  out  into 
the  hall.  "It  can  make  no  difference  to  him 
where  he  lies.     Come,  Mademoiselle." 

I  closed  the  door  silently,  feeling  her  press 
more  closely  to  me  in  the  sudden  darkness.  For 
a  moment  we  stood  there  listening,  but  nothing 
broke  the  intense  stillness,  except  our  own  breath- 
ing. Once  she  shuddered,  and  I  heard  a  half 
suppressed  sob. 

"Do  not  break  down,"  I  whispered,  almost 
tenderly.  "Surely,  there  is  nothing  so  terrible 
to  fear." 

"It  is  not  that;  I  am  not  afraid,  but — but  the 
sight  of  that  dead  man,  being  there  beside  him  so 
long,  has  unnerved  me,"  she  explained.  "I  will 
be  all  right  when — when  we  start  to  do  some- 
thing." 


FRESH  COMPLICATIONS        149 

"Then  let  us  feel  our  way  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs ;  there  is  a  light  burning  below." 

"Must  we  go  that  way?  In  a  house  like  this 
there  must  be  a  servant's  staircase." 

"I  remember  none,  and  if  there  is  it  could  be 
of  little  service.  I  told  you  the  rear  door  was 
locked,  and  all  the  lower  windows  boarded  up. 
The  front  entrance,  under  the  area  stairs,  is  the 
only  one  unfastened." 

Her  hand  tightened  on  mine,  but  she  made  no 
further  remonstrance,  and  I  moved  forward, 
feeling  my  way  cautiously  along  the  wall.  Had 
I  been  alone  I  should  have  walked  out  boldly 
enough,  paying  small  heed  to  Swigert,  for  Fran- 
zen's  loaded  revolver  rested  in  my  pocket,  but 
her  presence  was  a  restraint.  For  all  I  knew 
Brandt  might  have  returned,  and  it  was  to  our 
interest  to  avoid  creating  alarm.  If  that  one 
door  was  our  sole  means  of  escape  the  more 
quietly  we  could  attain  it  the  better.  Scarcely 
realizing  that  I  retained  her  hand  closely  clasped 
in  mine,  I  stole  down  the  stairs  toward  the  dim 
reflection  of  light  below.  We  had  reached  the 
foot  when  we  heard  the  chug  of  the  automobile, 
and  came  to  a  sudden  pause,  staring  into  each 


150  THE  AIR  PILOT 

other's  eyes.  The  frightened  look  in  her  face 
served  to  steady  me. 

"We  're  too  late ;  there  is  no  time  to  bolt,"  I 
muttered  shortly.  "Quick — let 's  try  this  room 
until  he  goes  by." 

I  flung  open  the  door  and  thrust  her  into  the 
dense  darkness,  crouching  beside  her,  and  noise- 
lessly fastening  the  latch.  Almost  with  the  clos- 
ing of  the  door  we  heard  Brandt  and  the  chauf- 
feur at  the  head  of  the  area  stairs,  the  former 
calling  for  Franzen,  as  he  peered  into  the  lighted 
room  opposite. 

"Not  here,"  he  exclaimed.  "Wait  there  where 
you  are,  Eisenbarth ;  he  's  probably  down  in  the 
basement." 

The  thick  hall  carpet  rendered  footsteps  noise- 
less, but  a  moment  later  his  voice  sounded  again 
as  he  called: 

"Below  there." 

"Hullo." 

"That  you,  Swigert?  What  has  become  of 
Franzen?" 

"He  was  there  in  the  back-parlor  the  last  I 
knew,  sir.  He  '11  be  around  there  somewhere  all 
right." 


FRESH  COMPLICATIONS       151 

"Crawled  off  and  gone  to  sleep,"  put  in  Eisen- 
barth.     "I  'm  tired  enough  myself." 

"Then  we  '11  wake  him  up,"  growled  the  leader. 
"How  's  the  prisoner?" 

"Could  n't  be  quieter  if  he  was  dead,"  returned 
the  voice  below.  "Was  about  half  asleep  my- 
self when  you  came  in." 

For  a  moment  they  all  appeared  quiet;  then 
the  chauffeur  spoke. 

"No  use  hunting  him  in  there,  sir;  that  *s  where 
we  put  the  stiff." 

"That 's  right ;  let 's  try  the  other  rooms. 
Give  me  some  matches,  will  you;  it  is  too  risky 
switching  on  the  lights." 

I  drew  the  girl  back  behind  the  door,  where 
we  would  be  partially  sheltered  from  observa- 
tion. Without  realizing  I  was  doing  so,  or 
rather  thinking  nothing  of  the  action  in  the  ex- 
citement, I  kept  a  grasp  on  her  hands,  and  held 
her  closely  to  me. 

"Do  not  move,"  I  whispered.  "They  may  not 
discover  us  here,  even  if  they  come  in." 

The  returning  pressure  of  her  fingers  an- 
swered; I  could  feel  the  warmth  of  her  body, 
hear    her    suppressed    breathing.     Outside,    a 


152  THE  AIR  PILOT 

match  flared  as  it  was  scratched  against  wood, 
but  no  hand  touched  the  knob  of  our  door.  It 
seemed  to  me  the  men  were  groping  their  way 
along  the  back  hall.  Finally  Eisenbarth  spoke 
again,  his  voice  sounding  some  distance  away: 

"He  is  n't  here,  that 's  certain.  Where  did 
you  put  the  girl?" 

"Up  above;  you  don't  suppose — " 

"Why  not?  That  is  his  reputation,  and  she 
was  a  peach,  what  little  I  saw  of  her.  If  that 
is  where  he  is  we  better  let  him  alone." 

Brandt  laughed. 

"I  never  thought  of  that,"  he  admitted.  "Oh, 
I  '11  let  him  alone  on  that  proposition,  never  fear. 
Best  thing  that  could  happen  to  keep  her 
tongue  still.  Just  creep  up  the  stairs  and  see  if 
there  is  a  light  burning." 

There  followed  a  few  moments  of  silence ;  then 
the  voices  again,  this  time  directly  before  our 
door. 

"There  is  a  light,  all  right,  Captain,  in  the 
front  room,  but  I  could  n't  hear  any  noise." 

The  other  chuckled,  as  though  it  was  all  a  good 
Joke. 

"So   much   the   better   for   Franzen.     He  '11 


FRESH  COMPLICATIONS       153 

show  up  presently.  Meanwhile  I  am  hungry 
enough  to  eat ;  Swigert." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"There  is  nothing  to  remain  down  there  for. 
Come  up,  and  see  what  kind  of  a  lunch  you  can 
spread.     Any  liquor  in  the  house?" 

The  footsteps  of  the  care-taker  sounded 
plainly  enough.  I  could  even  distinguish  when 
he  set  his  gun  down  against  the  wall. 

"Plenty  of  that,  but  not  so  much  to  eat. 
Franzen  had  a  bottle  already." 

"Which  accounts  for  his  courage — hey,  Eisen- 
barth?  Well,  hustle  up  what  you  have,  and 
bring  in  some  whiskey." 

We  waited,  pressed  close  together,  listening, 
barely  able  to  distinguish  the  faint  sounds  reach- 
ing us  from  without. 

"What  shall  we  do?"  she  whispered. 

"I  cannot  decide  yet,"  I  answered.  "There 
are  three  of  them  armed;  we  must  wait  for  some 
chance  to  slip  out." 


CHAPTER  XII 

IN  THE  DEATH   CHAMBER 

WAITING  there  in  the  dark  was  hard 
work.  I  drew  a  bit  away;  from  her, 
changing  my  position  as  silently  as 
possible,  but  she  kept  her  clasp  on  my  hand. 

"Please  do  not  leave  me,"  she  urged.  "I — I 
actually  believe  I  am  afraid." 

"This  position  is  enough  to  make  anyone 
nervous;  it  seems  quiet  out  there;  I  thought  I 
would  see  how  it  looked." 

"Oh,  don't  venture  yet!  I  can  hear  voices." 
She  leaned  forward.  "What  was  it  Captain 
Brandt  meant  when  he  laughed?  Did  he — did 
he  actually  believe  I  was  with  that  man?" 

"Undoubtedly ;  otherwise  he  would  n't  rest  so 
easily  now.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  good  thing  for  us  he 
did." 

She  gave  a  little  sob. 

"But  why  should  he  think  that !  Why  should 
he  speak — speak  like  that  of  me?"  her  voice 

154 


IN  THE  DEATH  CHAMBER    155 

trembling  even  in  its  whisper.  "Have  I  acted 
unwomanly?" 

"You!  Why  it  is  nothing  you  have  done  at 
all,  Mademoiselle.  There  are  men  who  think 
evil  of  all  women,  because  they  are  themselves 
evil.  Do  not  permit  that  fellow's  words  to  trou- 
ble you." 

"But  you  heard  what  he  said,  and  you  have  far 
more  reason  to  doubt  me  than  he.  I  have  ap- 
peared under  false  colors,  and  acted  as  an  ac- 
complice to  these  conspirators.  Brandt's  sneer 
has  caused  me  to  realize,  as  I  never  have  before, 
the  depth  of  my  degradation.  You  are  kind, 
Monsieur,  and  you  treat  me  with  courtesy,  yet 
down  in  your  heart  there  can  be  no  respect  for 
any  woman  who  would  do  what  I  have  done." 

Even  in  the  darkness  I  felt  the  hand  out- 
stretched in  despairing  gesture,  and  held  it 
firmly. 

"I  am  sorry  such  a  doubt  has  come  to  you," 
I  said  soberly,  "for  it  is  not  true.  I  cannot  speak 
here,  for  we  are  still  in  peril,  and  every  moment 
is  of  value,  but  I  hold  nothing  against  you.  This 
predicament  in  which  we  find  ourselves  is  fate. 
You  were  but  an  unconscious  instrument.     So 


156  THE  AIR  PILOT 

far  am  I  from  blaming  you  that  even  now  I  feel 
thankful  you  were  involved  in  the  affair." 

"Thankful!  you  mock  me!" 

"Oh,  no;  not  in  months,  even  years,  of  ordi- 
nary intercourse  could  I  have  come  to  know  you 
as  I  do  now.  Had  we  ever  met  under  other  con- 
ditions I  might  have  considered  you  a  most  com- 
monplace person  to  be  forgotten  in  an  hour." 

"But  I  am." 

"Of  that  let  me  be  judge;  at  least  the  forget- 
ting will  be  impossible.  Why  should  this  not  be 
true  with  me  as  well  as  with  you.  Can  you  for- 
get?" 

"No;  I  have  no  desire  to  do  so;  but  with  you 
it  is  different." 

"Why,  Mademoiselle?  I  am  a  man  as  you  are 
a  woman — the  gulf  between  us  is  not  so  wide." 

"Oh,  but  it  is!  You  are  a  man  of  affairs,  of 
the  world,  an  officer  of  your  nation,  distinguished, 
honored,  respected.  You  know  the  women  of 
the  capitols  of  Europe;  while  what  am  I?  A 
mere  newspaper  scribbler,  forced  to  do  work  of 
which  I  am  ashamed.  ~No !  do  not  interrupt,  for 
I  wish  you  to  realize  that  I  understand  the  truth. 
I  know  what  your  class  in  Europe  think  of 


IN  THE  DEATH  CHAMBER    157 

women  who  write  for  the  daily  press.  They  are 
held  as  unsexed.     Is  that  not  so?" 

"There  is  a  prejudice — yes,"  I  admitted.  "I 
was  not  free  from  it  myself,  for  those  of  the  pro- 
fession I  have  met  in  Paris  were  hardly  of  the 
sort  to  inspire  respect.  If  I  had  met  you  ordi- 
narily my  European  prejudice  would  have 
blinded  me;  I  would  never  have  comprehended 
the  American  difference." 

"You  think  me  an  exception  then?" 

"An  utter  contradiction  rather;  although,  of 
course,  I  am  not  capable  of  passing  judgment 
on  American  newspaper  women." 

"They  are  of  all  kinds — good  and  evil  mixed. 
The  work  is  of  a  nature  to  develop  whatever 
tendency  is  uppermost  at  the  start.  But  I  am 
not  so  deeply  interested  in  your  judgment  of  my 
profession,  as  of  your  present  faith  in  me  indi- 
vidually.    It  is  Helen  Probyn  who  is  on  trial." 

"Not  in  my  court,"  I  answered  earnestly,  "for 
I  have  decided  the  issues  already.  I  have  for- 
gotten all  else  of  the  case  except  that  the  de- 
fendant is  a  most  charming  woman." 

"Which,  even  if  true,  can  be  no  possible  ex- 
cuse for  her  actions,  for  the  strange  position  in 


158  THE  AIR  PILOT 

which  she  now  finds  herself.  Monsieur,  I  ap- 
preciate your  gallantry,  but  I  ask  more — your 
faith  in  me  as  a  woman." 

"It  is  yours,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said  simply,  and 
lifted  her  hand  to  my  lips.  "Not  as  a  courtier, 
but  as  a  man  I  speak.  I  am  your  friend  always. 
You  believe  me  now?" 

"Yes,"  the  faintest  hesitancy  in  the  whispered 
word.  "I  must  believe ;  it  is  in  my  heart  to  wish 
it  so.  I — I  cannot  tell  you  how  deeply  I  have 
been  humiliated  by  my  position.  I  did  not  care 
at  first,  for  when  I  started  out  to  gain  an  inter- 
view with  you  it  was  apparently  but  a  part  of 
my  ordinary  routine.  Please  let  me  explain !  I 
want  you  to  know  you  were  nothing  to  me  then 
— a  mere  name,  a  foreign  name,  in  which  I  was 
in  no  wise  interested.  Yet,  when  I  met  you,  I 
realized  it  was  different:  I  regretted  the  part 
I  was  cast  to  play.  When  we  were  at  supper  I 
was  planning  how  to  escape;  but  you  would  not 
let  me.  My  story,  half  told,  had  aroused  in  you 
a  spirit  of  adventure,  and  I  dare  not  warn  you 
of  what  I  suspected,  because  it  was  merely  sus- 
picion. There  was  nothing  left  me,  but  to  ac- 
company you — was  there?" 


IN  THE  DEATH  CHAMBER    159 

"No ;  that  was  my  fault,  not  yours." 

"It  is  generous  of  you  to  say  so.  What  I 
wish  you  to  understand  is  this — it  was  a  mere 
newspaper  reporter  who  met  you  at  the  Art 
Building;  but  it  was  a  woman  who  sat  beside 
you  at  the  Cafe  Francois;  it  is  a  woman  who  is 
here  now.    You  know  what  I  mean?" 

"Fully — you  have  changed,  because  I  am  no 
longer  a  mere  name,  but  an  individual — a  friend." 

"Yes,  a  friend,"  softly,  the  word  lingering  on 
her  lips.  "That  means  much — sometimes.  I 
have  never  had  many  friends;  those  to  whom  I 
could  speak  frankly.  But  we  have  met  so 
strangely  every  barrier  seems  leveled.  I 
scarcely  recognize  myself  sitting  here  in  the  dark 
talking  with  you  like  this — as  though  I  had 
known  you  always.  It — it  is  not  natural.  Why 
should  I  care  so  much  to  retain  your  respect,  your 
friendship?  ^Yesterday  I  did  not  know  your 
name." 

"I  am  willing  to  let  the  mystery  pass  without 
explanation,"  I  answered,  my  pulses  leaping, 
"and  rejoice  in  the  acknowledgment.  I  want 
you  for  a  friend,  Mademoiselle,  not  merely  in  the 
darkness  of  tonight,  but  also  in  the  glow  of  to- 


160  THE  AIR  PILOT 

morrow.  Let  me  make  my  confession  as  well. 
It  was  merely  an  adventurer  who  met  you  last 
evening,  but  it  is  a  man  who  speaks  now.  The 
change  wrought  by  a  few  hours  is  not  for  you 
alone.  Helen  Probyn  is  no  longer  a  mere  name 
to  me." 

She  did  not  speak,  although  I  waited,  listen- 
ing to  her  quick  breathing. 

"Do  you  care?" 

"Yes — of  course  I  care,"  frankly,  yet  with- 
drawing her  hand  from  mine,  as  though  just 
realizing  they  were  clasped  together.  "I  value 
your  friendship,  and  always  shall.  But  how  can 
we  sit  here  talking  of  such  things?  We  have 
forgotten  where  we  are.  I  hear  no  noise  out- 
side; are  those  men  still  there?" 

"Someone  passed  along  the  hall  a  moment  ago, 
and  voices  spoke  in  the  room  opposite.  Remain 
where  you  are  till  I  explore  this  apartment ;  there 
may  be  some  other  way  out." 

I  arose  to  my  feet,  but  she  grasped  my  sleeve. 

"Let  me  go  with  you!  the — the  silence  is  on 
my  nerves." 

We  moved  forward  cautiously,  groping  our 
way  through  the  dark,  fearful  of  making  the 


IN  THE  DEATH  CHAMBER    161 

slightest  noise  to  be  heard  without.  Where 
Brandt,  and  his  assistants  might  be,  was  only  a 
matter  of  guess,  and,  at  any  moment,  they  might 
learn  something  to  awaken  suspicion,  and  cause 
them  to  commence  search.  With  the  loaded  re- 
volver in  my  pocket  I  was  no  longer  greatly 
afraid  of  an  encounter,  in  spite  of  the  odds 
against  me,  yet  the  presence  of  the  girl  prevented 
my  becoming  reckless.  Any  revolver  duel 
might  attract  intervention  from  without,  and 
such  public  exposure  would  reflect  upon  her  rep- 
utation. Innocent  as  her  presence  was,  yet  the 
tongue  of  the  world  would  not  spare  her  name, 
and  I  realized  that  we  must  depend  upon  our 
own  efforts  at  escape.  The  clinging  pressure  of 
her  fingers  on  my  arm  kept  her  constantly  in  my 
memory,  and  I  was  conscious  of  a  tenderness  to- 
ward her  most  unusual.  She  was  no  longer 
merely  a  woman  I  was  bound  to  protect  and 
shield,  but  the  woman  whose  safety  meant  more 
than  my  own.  My  blood  leaped  at  the  slightest 
pressure  of  her  form  against  mine,  the  confident 
clinging  of  her  fingers.  I,  who  for  so  long  had 
been  indifferent  to  the  sex,  awoke  suddenly  now 
— surprised  and  startled — to  find  myself  a  pris- 


162  THE  AIR  PILOT 

oner  to  this  strange  girl.  I  scarcely  compre- 
hended the  truth,  yet  the  net  bound  me,  and  my 
heart  throbbed  at  her  presence.  Even  then  my 
one  desire  was  to  look  into  her  eyes,  and  read 
their  message;  until  I  could  do  that  I  must  crush 
back  the  mad  words  on  my  lips. 

I  touched  chairs  upholstered  in  leather;  a  ta- 
ble; book-cases,  protected  by  glass;  felt  the  out- 
lines of  a  low  window,  protected  by  lace  curtains, 
and  with  outside  blinds  fastened.  Then  we  en- 
countered a  wide  couch  of  soft  plush  resting 
against  the  wall.  Convinced  we  were  in  the  li- 
brary I  merely  swept  one  hand  over  the  plush 
to  assure  myself  of  its  nature,  but  came  in 
startled  contact  with  a  shoe,  apparently  encas- 
ing a  human  foot.  Even  in  that  first  instant  I 
recognized  it  to  be  the  coarse,  rough  shoe  of  a 
workingman,  caked  with  mud.  What — in  the 
name  of  God! — was  such  as  he  doing,  lying- 
there?  Obeying  my  first  impulse  I  drew  her  a 
step  backward. 

"Do  not  be  frightened,"  I  whispered,  "but  re- 
main where  you  are ;  there  is  a  man  lying  on  the 
couch." 

"A  man!    Are  you  sure?" 


IN  THE  DEATH  CHAMBER     163 

"Yes;  I  felt  his  foot.  You  will  wait  here 
quietly  while  I  investigate?  He  cannot  be 
asleep,  for  there  is  no  sound  of  breathing." 

"Oh!  you — you  think  he  is  dead?" 

"I  suspect  so  at  least,  but  must  make  certain." 

She  let  me  go,  and  I  held  the  revolver  in  one 
hand  as  I  crept  back  through  the  darkness.  The 
man  must  be  dead,  and  yet  I  dare  not  take  the 
chance  of  arousing  a  sleeper.  It  was  with  a 
shrinking  of  horror  I  touched  the  motionless 
form,  fingering  gingerly  coarse  trousers,  and  a 
workman's  shirt.  Then  my  hand  came  in  con- 
tact with  flesh,  cold,  clammy.  He  was  dead, 
and  I  straightened  up,  breathing  more  freely, 
and  dropped  the  weapon  back  into  my  pocket. 
There  was  nothing  to  fear  from  him. 

"He  is  dead,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said  gravely, 
and  with  outstretched  hand  touched  her  again, 
knowing  my  nearness  would  help  her  to  regain 
courage.     "There  is  no  danger." 

"Dead!  but  who  can  it  be?" 

"I  have  no  way  of  knowing,  but  from  his 
clothes  he  must  have  been  a  laborer.  I  wonder 
if  I  dare  strike  a  match?" 

She  did  not  answer,  only  I  could  feel  her  body 


164  THE  AIR  PILOT 

tremble,  and  knew  she  was  staring  through  the 
dark  in  horror. 

"I  am  going  to  risk  it.  There  was  no  tran- 
som to  that  room  opposite,  and  there  probably 
is  none  here.     I  must  see  his  face." 

The  match  burst  into  flame  silently,  and  the 
slight  flare  lit  up  the  room  dimly.  I  leaned  for- 
ward, and  held  the  blazing  splinter  closer.  The 
man's  face  was  to  the  wall,  and  I  was  compelled 
to  bend  far  over  to  see  his  features.  The  match 
fluttered  as  I  stared  down,  flickered  and  went 
out. 

"Good  God!"  I  muttered,  staggering  back,  as 
though  dealt  a  blow.     "It 's  Ramon." 

"Who?     Someone  you  know?" 

"Yes,  one  of  my  men.  I  cannot  be  mistaken, 
but  will  strike  another  match  and  make  sure." 

The  yellow  flame  rendered  the  dead  face 
ghastly,  but  there  was  no  doubt  as  to  who  the 
dead  man  was.  With  shaking  hand  still  holding 
the  burning  stick  I  glanced  up  at  her,  the  tiny 
glow  of  light  rendering  every  expression  visible. 
Then  we  were  in  darkness. 

"Was  it  your  man?" 

"Yes ;  but  I  saw  no  wound.     Still  he  could  not 


IN  THE  DEATH  CHAMBER     165 

have  died  from  natural  cause,  for  he  was  well 
yesterday.     Besides,  why  should  he  be  here?" 

There  was  silence  between  us;  then  she  spoke, 
again  clasping  my  arm,  but  with  voice  under  con- 
trol. 

"There  is  but  one  explanation— only  the  one. 
We  must  face  the  truth.  This  is  the  work  of 
those  men.  It  is  part  of  the  conspiracy  against 
you.  It  proves  to  what  desperate  means  Brandt 
will  resort  to  gain  his  ends.  He  will  not  hesitate 
even  at  murder." 

"But  I  am  not  sure  this  is  murder." 

"Perhaps  not;  they  may  not  have  actually 
killed  the  man  by  violent  means.  But  the  result 
is  the  same.  They  have  got  to  conceal  his  death, 
however  it  occurred.  Rather  than  be  discovered 
now,  they  would — would  kill  us.  Why  do  you 
think  he  was  not  murdered?" 

"From  a  bit  of  conversation  overheard.  Ra- 
mon drank  heavily  at  times,  and  Brandt's  spies 
discovered  his  weakness.  One  boasted  of  plying 
him  with  liquor,  and,  I  believe,  his  death  was  the 
result.     They  gave  him  too  much." 

"Yes;  yet  the  important  fact  is  that  he  is 
dead,"  she  insisted,  "and  they  cannot  permit  it 


166  THE  AIR  PILOT 

to  be  known  until  they  are  safely  away.     In- 
volved as  they  are  now,  they  would  do  any  des- 
perate deed  to  escape  discovery." 
"You  are  afraid?" 

"Yes,  I  am  afraid,"  clinging  to  me,  no  longer 
making  any  attempt  at  concealing  her  real  feel- 
ings. "But  it  is  for  you,  as  much  as  for  my- 
self. The  danger  which  confronts  us  now  is  not 
Brandt  alone,  but  also  the  law;  we  must  hide 
from  both." 

"The  law!" 

"Ramon  is  not  the  only  dead  man  in  this  hor- 
rible house,  Monsieur.  Have  you  forgotten  von 
Franzen?  The  moment  his  body  is  discovered 
Brandt  will  be  given  the  very  weapon  he  needs 
against  you." 

"I  see,  Mademoiselle,  and  also  a  method  by 
which  he  can  escape.  But  would  he  dare  call  in 
the  police?" 

"Dare!  Why  not?  What  has  he  to  fear 
from  their  investigation  ?  He  could  prefer  mur- 
der charges  against  you,  substantiated  by  the 
testimony  of  his  men;  have  me  detained  as  wit- 
ness, or  accessory,  and  be  perfectly  free  to  ob- 
tain access  to  your  machine  before  we  could  hope 


IN  THE  DEATH  CHAMBER     167 

for  release  on  bond.  There  would  be  no  one  to 
oppose  him,  except  the  single  employee  you  have 
left." 

"True,  but  the  trial?" 

She  laughed  scornfully. 

"The  trial!  Monsieur,  why  need  there  be  a 
trial?  This  is  America,  and  not  Europe;  we  do 
things  differently  over  here.  I  have  known 
cases  not  dissimilar  to  die  on  court  calendars, 
where  sufficient  influence  was  used  to  defeat  jus- 
tice. Why  should  it  not  be  so  in  this  case,  after 
Brandt  had  secured  all  the  information  he  de- 
sires, and  has  disappeared?  The  German  Gov- 
ernment could  convict  you,  or  turn  you  loose, 
whichever  was  desired.  There  are  ways  of  do- 
ing these  things." 

The  very  earnestness  with  which  she  spoke  con- 
vinced me  this  was  all  true.  Moreover  I  was 
sufficiently  posted  on  intrigue  to  comprehend 
how  easily  a  rascal  could  carry  forward  such  a 
scheme  to  success.  The  cards  were  every  one  in 
his  hands ;  all  he  had  to  do  was  play  them  boldly. 
And  Brandt  would  do  that;  everything  I  knew 
of  the  man  proved  he  possessed  the  necessary  dar- 
ing.    Besides  he  risked  little  in  such  a  venture, 


168  THE  AIR  PILOT 

for  he  could  vanish  utterly,  confident  of  being 
shielded  by  his  government,  while,  even  if  the 
French  Consul  came  at  once  to  my  assistance, 
and  procured  my  release,  the  damage  would  al- 
ready be  accomplished.  As  all  this  rushed 
across  my  mind,  it  aroused  thoroughly  my  fight- 
ing spirit.  I  had  been  through  too  much  to  lie 
down  now,  and  confess  defeat.  Yet  it  was  not 
so  much  the  thought  of  the  secret  I  was  guard- 
ing for  France,  as  of  the  trembling  girl  beside 
me,  which  dominated  my  action.  She  was  in 
my  care,  under  my  protection,  and — I  loved  her. 
I  knew  it  in  that  instant  of  sudden  revealment, 
as  well  as  I  know  it  now.  The  secret  of  my  in- 
vention was  nothing;  her  reputation  was  every- 
thing. Whatever  befell  me  in  this  unfortunate 
affair,  her  name  was  not  to  be  dragged  into  it. 
I  stood  up,  holding  her  closely,  my  mind  cleared 
by  determination. 

"Then  there  remains  but  one  way  out,"  I 
said  shortly.     "We  must  escape  from  this  house 
unseen;  you  will  do  whatever  I  say?" 
"Except  to  leave  you — do  not  ask  that." 
My  pulses  leaped  at  the  impulsive  words,  yet 
this  was  no  time  for  dalliance. 


IN  THE  DEATH  CHAMBER    169 

"I  do  not  wish  you  to  say  that.  You  are  to 
trust  me — my  judgment.     Say  that  you  will." 

There  was  a  moment's  hesitancy,  in  which  I 
could  detect  her  quick  breathing. 

"Yes.  I  am  not  afraid  to  promise.  What  is 
it  you  mean  to  do?" 

"Spy  out  the  hall  first,"  I  answered.  "I  am 
convinced  there  is  no  way  out  except  through  the 
area  door.  Wait  here  until  I  discover  if  the 
passage  is  clear." 

Exercising  every  caution  I  unlatched  the  door, 
and  peered  forth  through  the  narrow  crack  into 
the  dimly  lit  hallway. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

A  DASH  FOR  FREEDOM 

THE  only  light  streamed  out  through  the 
open  door  of  the  room  nearly  opposite, 
perhaps  six  feet  distant.  I  could  see 
merely  a  bit  of  its  wall,  but  that  reflected  the 
shadow  of  an  occupant,  somewhat  grotesque  in 
outlines,  yet  evidently  that  of  a  man.  That  it 
was  Brandt  sitting  there  I  had  no  doubt.  What 
troubled  me  most  was  to  decide  whether,  or  not, 
he  was  alone,  and  if  he  faced  the  door,  so  as  to 
observe  anyone  passing  along  the  corridor.  The 
vague  shadow  on  the  wall  left  this  uncertain.  No 
one  spoke,  although  I  could  see  the  shadow  of  an 
arm  on  the  wall,  the  movement  suggesting  that 
the  man  had  lifted  a  glass  to  his  lips. 

I  leaned  farther  out  thus  to  make  certain  as 
to  the  emptiness  of  the  hall.  There  was  another 
light  visible  at  the  rear,  where  I  remembered  the 
kitchen  to  be  located,  and  I  could  distinguish  the 
clatter  of  cooking  utensils.     The  situation  was 

170 


A  DASH  FOR  FREEDOM        171 

fairly  clear,  except  for  the  possible  presence  also 
of  the  chauffeur.  Yet  moments  were  so  precious 
to  us  that  I  dared  not  risk  further  delay.  The 
passage  to  the  area  stairs  was  to  all  appearance 
open.  To  be  sure  it  was  dark  there,  sufficiently 
so  to  conceal  a  watcher,  but  I  had  no  reason  to 
suspect  any  guard  had  been  stationed.  It  was 
evident  enough,  from  his  conversation,  as  well 
as  his  actions,  that  Brandt,  as  yet,  had  no  con- 
ception that  his  plans  were  not  working  per- 
fectly. To  his  mind  I  was  safely  incarcerated 
in  the  cell  below,  and  Mademoiselle  as  securely 
locked  in  her  upper  room.  It  was  his  careless 
assurance  as  to  all  this  which  gave  us  our  present 
opportunity.  Yet  any  moment  suspicion  might 
arise  from  the  continued  absence  of  Franzen,  or 
some  discovery  made  by  either  Swigert,  or  Eisen- 
barth.     I  grasped  her  arm. 

"Come;  we  must  endeavor  to  creep  by  that 
open  door  unobserved;  do  not  let  your  skirts 
rustle." 

She  gathered  them  closely  in  one  hand,  stand- 
ing in  the  open,  her  eyes  on  my  face. 

"Is  that  Captain  Brandt?" 

"I  think  so,  but  I  believe  he  is  facing  the  table. 


172  THE  AIR  PILOT 

If  so,  and  we  have  luck,  we  can  slip  by.     Keep 
close  to  me." 

I  drew  my  revolver,  fully  determined  to  use  it 
if  necessary,  and  advanced  cautiously,  rounding 
the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and  pressed  close  against 
the  further  wall.  I  was  at  the  very  edge  of  the 
stream  of  light,  the  girl  at  my  shoulder,  when 
Brandt  spoke  suddenly,  the  unexpected  sound 
of  his  voice  so  close,  causing  us  both  to  shrink 
back,  and  remain  motionless. 

"The  more  I  think  of  that  idea  of  yours,  Eisen- 
barth,  the  better  I  like  it,"  he  said  heartily,  and 
arose  to  his  feet,  walking  back  and  forth  across 
the  room,  his  shadow  outlined  on  the  wall.  "It 
will  give  us  all  the  time  we  need,  and  keep  the 
Frenchman  where  he  cannot  bother  us.  Some 
joke  on  him  too — hey!" 

The  other  laughed,  evidently  pleased  at  the 
commendation  of  his  chief,  and  inclined  to  glorify 
himself. 

"Thought  it  was  rather  clever.  You  see  my 
father-in-law  is  Captain  of  this  Precinct.  He  '11 
hush  the  matter  up." 

"Is  he  German?" 

"Sure.     Shall  I  get  him  on  the  wire?" 


A  DASH  FOR  FREEDOM        173 

Brandt  stopped  his  walking,  and  stood  still, 
apparently  staring  out  into  the  hall.  I  could 
see  his  face  clearly,  but  we  were  just  beyond  the 
range  of  his  vision. 

"Yes,"  he  replied  finally.  "The  sooner  that 
is  settled  the  better.  Only  be  careful  what  you 
say.  Have  him  send  two  discreet  men  over  here 
at  once." 

"With  an  ambulance?" 

"No;  that  might  be  noticed.  We  want  this 
pulled  off  quietly.  The  body  can  be  taken  away 
in  your  machine.  You  can  fix  matters  then  so 
there  will  be  no  give-away  to  the  reporters?" 

"Money  talks." 

"That  will  be  all  right.     Call  him  up." 

The  telephone  in  the  alcove,  behind  heavy  cur- 
tains, was  so  far  away  as  to  keep  us  from  over- 
hearing much  that  was  said.  Detached  words, 
meaning  little,  reached  us,  but  we  could  not  even 
guess  at  the  real  nature  of  the  message  being 
sent.  While  I  felt  convinced  that  some  near-by 
police  station  was  being  communicated  with  in 
relation  to  the  death  of  Ramon,  it  was  impossi- 
ble for  me  to  discern  the  object.  Of  course  they 
would  be  anxious  to  be  relieved  of  the  presence 


174  THE  AIR  PILOT 

of  the  dead  man  in  the  house ;  probably  had  con- 
cocted some  plan  whereby  they  expected  to  prove 
his  death  accidental.  Otherwise  they  would  hide 
it,  rather  than  call  in  outside  aid.  Yet  what 
could  Brandt  mean  by  his  remark  relative  to  a 
joke  being  played  on  someone? 

The  man  stood  leaning  against  the  wall  just 
inside  the  door  of  the  room,  listening  to  Eisen- 
barth  at  the  telephone.  He  was  in  plain  view 
from  where  we  crouched  in  the  shadow  of  the 
staircase.  We  dared  not  move,  even  to  advance 
or  draw  back,  for  fear  of  attracting  his  attention, 
and  I  could  feel  Mademoiselle  tremble,  as  her 
slender  form  pressed  close  against  mine.  Brandt 
drew  a  cigar  from  his  pocket,  and  struck  a 
match,  shadowing  the  flame  with  his  hands  and 
listening. 

"That  will  be  enough,  Eisenbarth,"  he  said 
shortly.  "Don't  explain.  Leave  that  to  me 
after  they  get  here.  Just  say  we  have  got  them 
both  safe,  and  will  hold  them  until  the  men  get 
here — yes,  the  area  door." 

He  moved  forward  slightly,  applying  the 
flame  to  his  cigar,  his  back  now  turned  toward 
us,  after  a  moment  asking: 


A  DASH  FOR  FREEDOM        175 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"He  '11  send  a  sergeant  and  detective ;  I  know 
them  both." 

"Good!     How  much  will  you  need  to  fix  it?" 

"For  how  long?" 

"Twenty-four  hours ;  after  that  they  can  go  to 
the  devil  for  all  I  care." 

I  failed  to  catch  the  answer,  but  Brandt  moved 
out  of  sight,  except  for  his  shadow  on  the  wall. 
Eager  as  I  was  to  get  away,  I  was  afraid  to  cross 
that  bar  of  light.  As  I  hesitated  the  girl  whis- 
pered : 

"What  is  it  they  mean  to  do?" 

"You  heard  all  I  did." 

"No ;  they  spoke  German,  and  I  could  merely 
catch  words  now  and  then — something  about  the 
dead  man." 

"They  have  sent  for  the  police  to  take  the  body 
away;  they  expect  to  show  his  death  to  be  acci- 
dental." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  her  breath 
pulsing  against  my  cheek. 

"I — I  do  not  believe  that  is  the  purpose,"  she 
murmured  earnestly.  "Did  not  Brandt  tell  the 
other  to  say  'we  have  them  both  safe'?" 


176  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"Yes,  but—" 

"That  means  you  and  I !  It  could  refer  to  no 
one  else.  They  are  going  to  have  us  arrested  for 
that  murder!" 

For  an  instant  I  hardly  grasped  her  meaning. 
It  seemed  impossible;  the  audacity  of  it  beyond 
belief.  She  must  have  understood  my  doubt,  for 
she  continued  hurriedly,  without  waiting  for  me 
to  protest. 

"Cannot  you  see  how  easy  that  would  be  ?  All 
it  needs  is  sufficient  money  to  keep  the  police 
quiet  for  a  few  hours.  These  men  do  not  ex- 
pect to  press  the  charge,  or  convict.  The  only 
purpose  is  to  get  us  out  of  the  way,  while  Brandt 
gains  the  information  he  seeks,  and  escapes  with 
it.  The  dead  body  must  be  accounted  for  as 
soon  as  possible." 

"He  would  not  dare,"  I  protested. 

"He  risks  nothing,  for  if  the  police  captain 
takes  the  money  it  seals  his  lips.  The  case  will 
never  come  to  trial,  or  be  made  public.  There 
are  ways  to  hush  such  matters  up ;  we  learn  that 
in  newspaper  work.  I  am  not  afraid  of  the  ar- 
rest— it  is  only  bluff,  but  there  is  the  other." 
"What  other?" 


A  DASH  FOR  FREEDOM        177 

"Franzen!"  and  her  voice  trembled.  "His 
body  will  be  found  also,  and — and  that  will  be 
serious." 

The  whole  situation  flashed  upon  me,  but  only 
to  arouse  my  faculties.  She  was  right ;  she  must 
be  right.  At  least  I  was  sure  of  this — the  police 
had  been  sent  for,  and  whatever  might  be 
Brandt's  real  purpose  in  thus  invoking  their  aid, 
their  arrival  would  inevitably  discover  the  two 
tragedies  of  the  night.  The  result  of  such  dis- 
covery would  render  our  position  desperate  in- 
deed. At  whatever  cost  we  must  attain  the  open 
before  the  police  arrived. 

"Go  first!"  I  said,  "and  wait  for  me  in  the  dark 
beyond.     Don't  hesitate ;  we  must  take  the  risk." 

Her  eyes  flashed  into  mine  an  instant  question- 
ingly. 

"You  will  follow — at  once?" 

"Of  course;  I  merely  stay  to  protect  you,  in 
case  either  of  those  fellows  happens  to  see  any- 
thing.    Be  quick,  the  way  is  clear." 

She  slipped  along  the  wall  like  a  shadow,  bend- 
ing slightly,  one  hand  grasping  her  skirt.  As 
the  light  streamed  over  her  for  a  second  I  saw 
her  face  turned  toward  the  open  door.     Then  she 


178  THE  AIR  PILOT 

vanished  silently  into  the  gloom  beyond.  There 
was  no  sound  from  within ;  no  evidence  of  alarm. 
Someone  was  idly  sliding  a  drinking  glass  back 
and  forth  across  the  surface  of  a  table.  A  voice 
spoke  bruskly: 

"What 's  keeping  Swigert  so  long?  Tell  the 
lazy  lout  to  bring  on  whatever  he  has." 

Eisenbarth  passed  hurriedly  within  less  than  a 
yard  of  me,  blinded  by  the  darkness,  and  guiding 
himself  with  one  hand  on  the  wall.  Before  he 
had  taken  a  dozen  steps  down  the  hall  I  had 
slipped  through  the  bar  of  light,  and  stood  be- 
side her.  An  instant  we  waited,  listening,  her 
fingers  grasping  my  arm. 

"Did  you  see  anything?" 

"Just  a  glimpse.  Brandt  is  sitting  at  the 
table;  I  could  see  the  back  of  his  head.  Please 
let's  hurry!" 

She  started  down  the  stairs,  groping  her  way 
step  by  step  noiselessly,  and  I  followed  closely. 
At  the  foot  we  came  together. 

"The — the  door  is  locked,  but — oh!  yes!  the 
key  is  here!" 

It  turned  with  a  faint  click,  and,  as  the  door 
opened  slightly,  the  gleam  of  an  electric  light 


A  DASH  FOR  FREEDOM        179 

some  distance  away  revealed  two  men  outside, 
one  wearing  the  police  uniform.  We  both  stood 
motionless ;  then  I  felt  her  hand  grip  mine  which 
held  the  revolver. 

"No,  not  that!"  she  murmured  swiftly. 
"Keep  it  out  of  sight."  Then  she  stood  straight 
before  them. 

"You  are  the  officers  sent  from  the  station?" 
she  asked,  her  voice  clear  and  low. 

"Yes,  madam,"  respectfully  enough. 

"You  will  find  Mr.  Brandt  in  the  library — 
the  first  door  to  your  left  up  the  stairs." 

"Who,  madam?" 

"Captain  Brandt,  of  the  German  Secret  Po- 
lice; the  man  who  sent  for  you." 

The  sergeant  glanced  uneasily  at  the  silent  de- 
tective, who  stepped  forward. 

"This  is  news  to  us,"  he  said  in  rougher  tone. 
"It  was  Issy  Eisenbarth  who  telephoned  the  sta- 
tion." 

"Yes,  at  Captain  Brandt's  request,"  coolly. 
"You  did  n't  suppose  Eisenbarth  had  any  money, 
did  you?" 

The  detective  grinned. 

"Never  knew  him  to  have,"  he  admitted,  "but 


180  THE  AIR  PILOT 

he  has  got  some  pull.     What 's  the  case,  anyhow, 
sister — suicide?" 

"Murder." 

"No!  and  they've  got  the  ones  who  did  it? 
Say,  what  is  the  game?" 

She  leaned  forward  confidentially,  her  face  re- 
vealed in  the  light. 

"It  may  need  to  be  hushed  up  for  a  few  hours," 
she  whispered.  "Captain  Brandt  will  explain  in- 
side.    He  can  afford  to  pay  well." 

The  two  men  exchanged  glances,  and  then  both 
stared  at  the  girl. 

"You  're  a  wise  one,  all  right,"  admitted  the 
plain  clothes  admiringly,  "but  I  'm  not  so  sure 
your  tip  is  straight.  Where  are  you  two  go- 
ing? 

"We  're  newspaper  reporters,"  she  answered 
promptly.  "I  am  on  the  Press;  you  know  me, 
Snyder.  Now  wait  until  I  explain ;  this  is  a  City 
Associated  News  man.  We  got  onto  this  by  ac- 
cident, but  are  going  to  keep  mum.  There  is 
other  graft  besides  the  police  variety." 

The  sergeant  scratched  his  head. 

"Maybe  she  's  right,  Foley,"  he  said,  tapping 
the  other's  sleeve.     "It 's  Miss  Probyn.     I  know 


A  DASH  FOR  FREEDOM        181 

that.  I  Ve  seen  her  at  .the  City  Hall  more  than 
once.  You  meant  to  get  safely  out  of  the  way 
before  we  got  here?" 

Hr  "Yes,  and  you  might  as  well  forget  you  have 
ever  seen  us." 

"Well,  maybe  all  you  say  is  straight,"  broke 
in  the  detective  roughly,  "but  it  looks  damn  queer 
to  me.  You  wait  a  minute  while  I  see  this  man 
Brandt.  Stay  here  with  them,  Snyder,  and  don't 
let  either  one  go  till  I  tell  you;  watch  out  now!" 

He  pushed  past  us  into  the  narrow  entry, 
shouldering  me  roughly  in  getting  by.  Snyder 
stood  just  outside,  one  foot  on  the  step,  his  hands 
gripping  his  night-stick.  The  girl  leaned  back 
against  the  brick  wall,  her  face  white  in  the 
gleam  of  the  electric,  breathing  heavily.  My 
eyes  caught  the  glimmer  of  dull  metal  in  her 
hand  nearest  me — it  was  the  key,  the  key  of  the 
door.  Desperation  drove  me  to  action;  the  de- 
lay of  an  instant  meant  certain  exposure  and  ar- 
rest. The  detective  must  be  already  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs.  There  was  a  chance — one!  With 
a  single  step  I  had  Snyder  by  the  throat,  hurled 
him  about,  and  drove  my  fist  to  his  chin.  He 
went  staggering  backward,  stumbled  over  the 


182  THE  AIR  PILOT 

step,  and  sprawled  full  length  against  the  stairs. 
I  jammed  the  door  shut. 

"Quick,  Mademoiselle ;  the  keyl" 

She  held  it  out,  and  I  thrust  it  into  the  lock. 
Even  as  the  bolt  shot  home  the  heavy  body  of  the 
enraged  sergeant  crashed  against  the  strong 
wood.     His  hands  fumbled  for  the  knob. 

"Foley!"  he  yelled  savagely,  the  muffled  voice 
evidencing  his  injured  feelings.  "They  've  got 
away.     Damn  them  1     They  slugged  me  1" 

My  eyes  met  those  of  Miss  Probyn,  and  she 
laughed  almost  hysterically,  dazed  still  with  the 
suddenness  of  the  affair. 

"Oh!  oh!  What  shaU  we  do?  I— I  am  all 
confused." 

"You  '11  get  your  senses  in  a  minute.  No  one 
is  hurt,  except  that  policeman  may  have  a  sore 
head.  Come,  let 's  get  out  of  this — the  door  will 
not  hold  them  long.  Which  path  leads  to  the 
gate?" 

"The  roadway  is  yonder,"  she  gasped,  "around 
the  corner  of  the  house.  See!  there  where  the 
car  stands."  She  drew  in  her  breath  sharply. 
"Can  you  operate  a  machine,  Monsieur?" 

"I  know  the  French  and  German  cars." 


A  DASH  FOR  FREEDOM        183 

"This  is  a  Mercedes;  I  heard  someone  say — 
yes,  see!  oh,  such  luck!" 

There  was  not  so  much  noise  from  within; 
doubtless  Brandt  had  counseled  less  uproar,  be- 
ing more  anxious  to  escape  notice  than  to  recap- 
ture us.  Indeed  our  violent  disappearance  even 
served  him  in  a  way.  Yet  the  two  policemen 
would  not  remain  quiet  for  long.  I  took  a  hasty 
glance  at  the  machine,  and  cranked  the  engine. 

"Get  in,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  taking  her 
hand  in  mine,  and  feeling  quite  content.  "It  is 
nothing  to  add  another  crime  to  our  night's  cata- 
logue. What  is  it  you  say  in  America,  one  can 
hang  as  well  for  sheep  as  lamb.  I  have  it 
right?" 

"Practically  so,  yes — but  I  seriously  object  to 
hanging  for  either.  There;  they  have  begun  on 
the  door  again.     Let  us  get  out  of  here." 

It  was  a  new  car,  and  a  powerful  one.  My 
experience  with  its  make  was  not  extensive,  and 
I  ran  somewhat  slowly  down  the  rounded  drive- 
way. Someone  fired  a  single  shot  in  our  rear, 
which  must  have  been  a  signal,  for  two  men 
stepped  out  of  the  shrubbery  into  the  open  gate- 
way.    I  saw  them  even  as  Mademoiselle  clutched 


184  THE  AIR  PILOT 

my  arm,  and  obeying  my  first  swift  instinct, 
turned  on  full  power.  They  sprang  back  to  es- 
cape the  flying  wheels,  one  falling  headlong;  the 
other,  shielded  by  a  stone  post,  fired  three  shots, 
one  of  which  crashed  into  the  tonneau.  The 
same  instant  we  whirled  into  the  street,  dashed 
past  an  intersection,  and  plunged  into  the  shad- 
ows beyond  the  arc  light.  As  we  took  the  turn, 
almost  running  on  two  wheels,  I  saw  a  policeman 
racing  for  the  corner,  his  star  gleaming,  but  we 
were  already  past  and  gone.  Two  blocks,  three 
blocks,  sped  by;  we  leaped  a  street  car  track, 
and  then  took  another  turn  into  a  quiet  avenue. 
I  slowed  down  until  the  machine  was  almost 
noiseless,  and  glanced  aside  at  my  companion. 
Her  eyes  were  like  stars,  and  her  hair  flying 
wildly. 

"Was  n't  it  great !"  she  panted.  "I — I  never 
rode  so  fast  before." 

"Some  sport — yes,"  my  own  blood  pulsing 
with  excitement,  "but,  Mademoiselle,  where  are 
we  to  go?" 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  MAN   AND   A   MAID 

HE  glanced  behind,  down  the  dark  street, 
her  face  sobering  instantly. 

"Why,  I — I  hardly  know,"  she  con- 
fessed, as  though  the  full  seriousness  of  the  situa- 
tion had  just  dawned  upon  her  again.  "We — 
we  are  fugitives — thieves!  We  have  stolen  this 
automobile,  and — and  they  can  even  charge  us 
with  murder.  Oh!  Monsieur,  this  has  been  such 
a  horrid  night!" 

"It  certainly  has,  but  through  no  fault  of  ours. 
Whatever  we  have  done  has  been  in  self-defense, 
You  must  n't  lose  heart  now.  We  are  free  for 
the  moment  at  least,  and  must  plan  to  remain 
free.     Where  are  we?     Do  you  know?" 

She  stared  around  at  the  rows  of  black  houses. 

"There  are  no  lights  to  display  the  numbers. 
Yes,  there  is  one.  I  do  not  recognize  this  street, 
but  we  are  on  the  Thirty- third  Street  block  on 
the  south  side.     Where  is  your  aeroplane?" 

185 


186  THE  AIR  PILOT 

I  told  her,  waiting  to  learn  what  she  would  say, 
unable  to  decide  for  myself  even  in  which  direc- 
tion to  drive. 

"If  we  only  knew  what  Brandt — what  the  po- 
lice will  do,"  she  said,  struggling  with  the  prob- 
lem. "Keep  on  as  you  are,  only  a  little  faster, 
while  I  think." 

"We  are  headed  south?" 

"Yes;  the  direction  does  not  greatly  matter, 
so  we  get  safely  out  of  this  neighborhood." 

We  made  two  or  three  blocks  before  she  spoke 
again;  I  busy  guiding  the  machine  over  a  rather 
rough  roadway,  but  glancing  aside  into  her  face 
as  we  passed  under  the  street  lights.  No  passer- 
by appeared  on  the  sidewalks. 

"What  time  is  it,  Monsieur?" 

"Nearly  two  o'clock." 

"About  three  hours  more  of  darkness  then. 
I — I  do  not  know  what  to  say — what  to  decide," 
and  I  could  distinguish  the  tremor  in  her  voice. 
"You  see  I — I  have  never  been  a  fugitive  from 
justice  before,"  with  a  little  hysterical  laugh. 
"Even  as  a  newspaper  reporter  my  life  has  been 
rather  uneventful,  and  this  is  a  problem  not  so 
easily  solved.     What  do  you  think,  Monsieur?" 


A  MAN  AND  A  MAID  187 

"My  thought  is  they  will  make  every  effort  to 
recapture  us,"  I  answered  soberly.  "Those  two 
dead  men  will  have  to  be  accounted  for  in  some 
way.  To  save  himself,  and  gain  time  to  get  out 
of  the  country,  Brandt  will  certainly,  endeavor  to 
shift  the  whole  affair  onto  us.  The  very  fact 
that  we  have  run  away,  after  resisting  the  police, 
will  lend  probability  to  his  story." 

"So  I  believe.  With  influence  and  money  it 
could  be  hushed  up  later.  Such  things  are  done 
every  day ;  but  we  might  remain  incarcerated  for 
months.  But  how  is  it  possible  for  us  to  es- 
cape? Every  policeman  in  the  city  will  be  no- 
tified within  an  hour;  the  railroad  depots,  the 
boat  landings  will  all  be  watched.  They  have 
our  descriptions,  our  names,  the  license  number 
of  this  machine.  Even  if  we  drive  furiously  into 
the  country  the  telephone  will  warn  every  near-by 
town.  There  is  not  a  loop-hole  which  will  not 
be  promptly  closed.  Even  if  those  men  do  not 
succeed  in  breaking  out  of  the  house  immediately, 
they  can  telephone  the  alarm  to  police  headquar- 
ters. In  all  probability  this  has  already  been 
done.     We  are  like  rats  in  a  trap." 

She  dropped  her  head  into  her  hands  with  a 


188  THE  AIR  PILOT 

gesture  of  despair,  her  voice  breaking  into  a  sob. 
I  touched  her  gently,  my  other  hand  gripping 
the  wheel. 

"There  is  a  way  out,  if  we  can  only  make  it  in 
time,"  I  said. 

"A  wayl"  and  I  could  see  the  glitter  of  tears 
in  her  eyes,  as  she  glanced  up  quickly.  "You 
have  thought  of  something?" 

"Yes;  a  wild  thought,  perhaps,  and  yet  possi- 
ble, if  we  only  have  the  nerve  to  carry  the  plan 
out.     There  are  no  police  patroling  the  skies." 

"The  skies!"  and  she  sat  upright,  facing  me. 
"Do  you  mean  your  monoplane?  Can  that 
really  be  done?  Would  you  dare  venture  upon 
such  a  trip  in  the  dark?" 

"I  have  flown  in  the  night  more  than  once," 
I  answered  a  bit  proudly,  "and  everything  is 
ready,  or  was  last  evening.  Without  doubt  De 
Vigne  is  there  still,  and  the  two  of  us  would  have 
no  trouble  in  getting  the  machine  out  of  the  han- 
gar. Starting  it  would  be  more  difficult,  but 
I  believe  it  can  be  managed." 

She  remained  gazing  straight  at  me,  as  if  fas- 
cinated. 

"You  would  not  be  afraid?" 


A  MAN  AND  A  MAID  189 

"Afraid!"  I  laughed.  "Of  what,  Made- 
moiselle? It  is  my  life;  I  have  already  made 
over  a  hundred  ascensions — one  more  is  nothing. 
It  is  you  who  must  consider  fear." 

"Am  I  to  go  with  you?" 

"Did  you  imagine  I  would  leave  you  behind? 
It  hurts  me  to  have  you  intimate  that.  I  am  not 
a  coward ;  if  I  was  alone  involved  in  this  matter 
I  am  not  even  sure  I  would  endeavor  to  escape  its 
consequences.  I  believe  I  could  fight  clear  of 
these  charges,  even  if  Brandt  dared  to  press  them, 
and  as  to  the  secret  of  my  monoplane,  it  is  noth- 
ing to  sacrifice  greatly  over.  The  world  will 
know  it  all  in  a  few  months.  I  have  not  guarded 
it  so  much  because  of  its  value,  but  out  of  a  sense 
of  honor  to  my  government,  and  because  I  could 
not  yield  to  a  German  spy.  So,  unless  you  go 
with  me,  there  will  be  no  flight." 

"I  can  stay  and  face  it  all — " 

"No;  not  with  my  permission,"  and  I  grasped 
her  hand,  holding  it  firmly  in  mine  at  the  rim  of 
the  wheel.  "You  are  a  woman;  you  cannot  be- 
come involved  in  the  publicity  of  such  an  esca- 
pade; you  cannot  be  imprisoned  under  such 
charges,  however  false.     Your  reputation,  your 


190  THE  AIR  PILOT 

womanhood  is  at  stake.  I  have  drawn  you  into 
this  affair;  now  I  must  extricate  you  without 
publicity.  So  far  as  I  can  see  there  is  no  other 
way  possible.  If  we  escape,  if  we  vanish,  not  a 
word  of  this  night's  work  will  ever  be  made  pub- 
lic. It  will  be  hidden,  hushed  up;  both  Brandt 
and  the  police  will  see  the  necessity." 

"But  why  do  you  care — for  me?"  she  asked 
suddenly.  "I  have  been  the  cause  of  it  all;  but 
for  my  interference  you  would  be  quietly  sleep- 
ing at  the  hotel.  I  deserve  punishment,  Mon- 
sieur, and — and  it  cannot  hurt  so  awfully.  I 
am  only  a  newspaper  woman." 

"You  are  far  more  than  that  to  me;  don't  be- 
little yourself.  I  am  not  prejudiced,  merely  be- 
cause you  have  been  compelled  to  earn  a  living. 
I  am  a  man,  you  a  woman — nothing  else  matters 
now.     You  will  come?" 

"I  cannot,"  pleadingly.  "You  should  not 
ask ;  it  would  only  make  matters  worse.  Cannot 
you  see  it  would?" 

"I  do  not  see,  Mademoiselle.  You  are  in  as 
great  danger  here  as  I — even  more  from  my 
point  of  view.  You  would  be  exposed  to  every 
indignity,  to  insult,  to  probable  arrest.     Am  I 


A  MAN  AND  A  MAID  191 

to  escape,  and  leave  you  to  such  a  fate  ?,  I  would 
forever  despise  myself.  If  you  remain,  I  stajr 
here  with  you." 

"But,  Monsieur—" 

"No,  wait — listen.  You  think  I  do  not  care; 
that  I  merely  urge  this  out  of  courtesy.  That  is 
not  true — it  is  because  I  do  care.  I  respect,  ad- 
mire, love  you !     I  have  told  it  all." 

The  words  were  swift,  impetuous.  I  had  not 
meant  to  speak  then,  yet  once  started,  could  not 
be  checked.  She  drew  back,  clinging  to  the  seat, 
her  eyes  wide  open,  searching  my  face. 

"You — you  jest,  Monsieur." 

"No;  look  into  my  eyes,  and  see." 

"Then  you  must  be  crazy,  or,"  she  laughed  bit- 
terly, "you  presume  on  my  unfortunate  posi- 
tion. You  think  me  of  a  class  to  whom  such 
words  can  be  spoken  lightly?" 

"You  are  angry?" 

"No,  not  that.  I  am  hurt,  mortified,  Mon- 
sieur. I — I  have  trusted  you  too  much;  it — it 
is  all  my  fault.  You  do  not  understand  Ameri- 
can girls.  I — I  never  once  dreamed  you  would 
think  that  of  me." 

"I  think  nothing  wrong,  Mademoiselle;  noth- 


192  THE  AIR  PILOT 

ing  lightly,"  I  protested  warmly.  "There  was 
no  disrespect  in  my  words.  I  should  not  have 
spoken  so  suddenly,  I  admit,  but  the  words  could 
not  be  restrained.     You  believe  me?" 

"No,  Monsieur,  I  do  not.  It  is  impossible  that 
you  can  be  in  earnest.  You  are  an  officer  of 
France,  a  man  of  high  rank  socially,  of  distin- 
guished family.  I  am  a  girl  you  have  met  on 
the  streets,  unknown,  obliged  to  toil  for  a  liveli- 
hood. We  have  been  thrown  together  in  a  pe- 
culiar manner,  and,  in  some  mysterious  way,  I 
have  proven  attractive  to  you.  I  understand 
what  has  occurred;  I  do  not  blame  you.  You 
have  your  European  conception  of  such  a  situa- 
tion. You  feel  at  perfect  liberty  to  make  love 
to  such  as  I.  It  is  an  honor  done  me;  you  are 
incapable  of  comprehending  my  indignation." 

"You  mistake,  Mademoiselle." 

"Do  not  protest — it  is  useless,  perfectly  use- 
less! You  have  your  world,  Monsieur;  I  have 
mine.  There  is  nothing  in  common  between 
them.  I  might  have  gone  with  you,  but  for  this. 
Now  it  is  over."  Her  eyes  deserted  my  face, 
and  glanced  ahead,  searching  the  street;  the  ex- 
pression of  her  voice  changed.     "I  know  where 


A  MAN  AND  A  MAID  193 

we  are  now,  and  it  will  be  safer  for  us  to  leave 
the  car.  The  police  will  be  searching  for  that, 
and  will  know  its  number.  You  will  do  as  I 
say?" 

"Certainly." 

She  pointed  forward  to  the  left. 

"There  is  an  open  court  yonder,  surrounded 
by  houses,  a  small,  private  park.  You  can  see 
the  open  gate  under  that  electric  light.  Drive 
the  machine  in  there,  and  turn  to  the  right,  so  it 
will  be  concealed  by  the  wall.  Yes,  this  is  the 
place ;  now  turn  off  the  power.  No  one  will  dis- 
cover it  here  until  after  daylight." 

She  sprang  to  the  ground,  without  waiting  for 
assistance,  and  I  followed ;  determined  not  to  per- 
mit her  to  escape  without  further  explanation, 
yet  embarrassed  by  her  prompt  action.  It  was 
very  still,  the  sky  slightly  overcast,  the  street 
beyond  the  wall  deserted.  The  light  over  the 
gateway  streamed  around  us,  and  I  could  clearly 
distinguish  her  face. 

"Mademoiselle,  you  will  listen,  you  will  hear 
me,"  I  began  eagerly.  "Surely  you  have  found 
me  a  gentleman." 

"According  to  your  standards — yes,"  she  re- 


194  THE  AIR  PILOT 

turned  frankly.  "I  have  already  said  I  did  not 
blame  you.  The  indiscretion  has  been  mine ;  you 
have  every  reason  to  think  lightly  of  me.  But 
now  I  must  protect  myself."  She  held  out  her 
hand.  "Let  us  be  friends,  Monsieur,  and  speak 
of  this  no  longer.  Do  I  have  your  promise  to 
respect  my  wish?" 

I  took  the  hand  in  both  of  mine,  but  my  lips 
failed  to  respond.  There  was  something  in  the 
uplifted  face  I  failed  to  understand. 

"Why  do  you  hesitate?  Must  I  be  more  ex- 
plicit?" 

"Your  meaning  is  not  altogether  clear,"  I  man- 
aged to  say.  "I  am  your  friend  always,  but  can- 
not surrender  the  hope  of  being  more." 

"The  future  is  a  wide  sea,  and  we  sail  for  dif- 
ferent ports.  'T  is  not  likely  our  ships  will  ever 
meet  again,  but  it  is  better  to  part  with  pleasant 
rather  than  unpleasant  memories.  Why  should 
you  insist  on  thus — thus  insulting  me?" 

"Insult !"  the  harsh  word  stung  me  like  a  whip. 
"Is  the  love  of  a  man  insult?" 

"Sometimes— yes.  What  else  can  it  be  now? 
You  know  nothing  of  me,  except  my  name. 
Twelve  hours  ago  you  were  not  even  aware  of 


A  MAN  AND  A  MAID  195 

my  existence.  Twelve  hours  more,  and  I  will 
remain  but  a  vague  memory.  It  is  mockery  for 
you  to  talk  of  love ;  you  play  with  what  to  me  is 
sacred.  Please  spare  me  from  more.  I — I  ap- 
peal to  you,  Monsieur,  as  a  gentleman." 

I  bowed,  releasing  her  hand. 

"I  cannot  refuse,  Mademoiselle;  yet  you  are 
wrong — I  have  known  you  all  my  life." 

"How  absurd!" 

"But  it  is  not.  You  are  the  realization  of  a 
dream.  I  knew  last  evening,  as  we  sat  at  table 
together,  this  was  so.  Time  has  nothing  to  do 
with  love,  unless  to  strengthen  it.  These  few 
hours  have  done  more  to  reveal  your  nature  to 
me,  my  nature  to  you,  than  would  years  in  a 
drawing  room.  At  least  know  that  I  am  in  ear- 
nest ;  that  I  speak  from  the  heart." 

She  stood  motionless,  looking  straight  at  me, 
her  breath  quickening. 

"But  who  am  I?"  she  asked.  "You  do  not 
even  know." 

"Fortunately,"  with  a  smile,  "I  do  not  even 
care.     You  are  yourself,  which  is  enough." 

She  laughed,  breaking  the  tenseness  of  her  at- 
titude by  a  little  gesture  of  dismissal. 


196  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"How  foolish  this  all  is,  Monsieur!  I  cannot 
afford  to  dream  such  dreams.  Life  has  always 
been  most  practical  to  me.  Nor  can  you  now. 
We  forget  where  we  are,  the  conditions  surround- 
ing us,  the  peril  of  delay.  The  coming  of  day- 
light will  mean  the  arrest  of  both." 

"Very  true,  yet  if  arrest  is  to  be  the  portion 
of  either,  I  prefer  to  be  the  one,"  I  said  quietly. 
"You  speak  as  though  you  wished  me  to  get  away 
free,  and  desert  you  to  the  police?" 

"No;  I  have  friends  who  will  shelter  me.  I 
am  not  alarmed  about  myself  in  the  least.  It 
will  be  unpleasant,  perhaps,  and  I  may  have  to 
leave  the  city  later.  But  with  you  it  is  different. 
You  are  a  stranger  and  helpless.  There  is  a 
chance  for  you  to  escape  if  you  act  promptly — 
at  least  you  have  encouraged  me  to  think  so — 
and  I  am  simply  imploring  you  to  accept  it  be- 
fore it  is  too  late.  If  you  will  not  for  your  own 
sake,  then  do  this  for  me,  Monsieur.  You 
speak  of  my  safety,  my  reputation;  do  you  not 
realize  what  your  arrest  would  mean  to  me?  It 
would  inevitably  lead  to  exposure ;  no  matter  how 
closely  your  lips  were  sealed,  Brandt  and  those 
policemen  would  have  to  tell  the  story.     I  ap- 


A  MAN  AND  A  MAID  197 

peal  to  your  generosity,  your  friendship:  yes, 
even  your  protestation  of  love." 

"And  you  will  not  accompany  me?" 

"Assuredly  not." 

"What  will  you  do?  I  must  know,  Made- 
moiselle; I  cannot  desert  you  to  any  uncer- 
tainty." 

"But  I  have  told  you  already.  Oh!  why  waste 
all  this  time !  I  will  go  to  friends  who  will  con- 
ceal me  until  it  is  safe  for  me  to  leave  Chicago — 
friends,  whom  the  police  will  never  suspect  of 
harboring  me.  The  place  I  mean  is  not  far 
away." 

"And  I  am  never  to  see  you  again?  or  hear 
from  you?  You  are  willing  to  drop  thus  com- 
pletely out  of  my  life?" 

The  long  lashes  drooped  over  her  eyes,  her 
face  turned  away. 

"I — I  have  no  expectation  of  anything  else," 
she  said  finally,  "although  it  would  be  pleasant 
to  be  assured  you  had  met  with  no  accident." 

I  caught  her  hand  again. 

"You  will  give  me  an  address?"  I  exclaimed 
eagerly,  "some  place  where  a  letter  will  surely 
reach  you?" 


198  THE  AIR  PILOT 

She  laughed,  lifting  her  face  again  to  the  light. 

"Why,  of  course,  I  will  do  that.  How  per- 
sistent you  are ;  one  would  almost  believe  you  ac- 
tually in  earnest.  Care  of  Miss  Sadler,  the 
Press,  will  reach  me  safely.  Now  that  I  have 
paid  the  price,  will  you  go?" 

"Yes ;  you  leave  me  no  choice.  Do  I  part  with 
you  here?" 

"No,  we  will  go  together  to  the  corner  three 
blocks  south.  There  is  an  all-night  drug  store 
there  where  I  can  phone  for  a  cab.  Then  you 
can  take  a  car  going  directly  past  where  your 
monoplane  is.     Let  us  go." 

We  walked  in  the  glare  of  light  down  the 
graveled  driveway,  leaving  the  silenced  motor 
behind,  securely  concealed  by  the  shadow  of  the 
high  wall.  Late  as  the  hour  was,  in  the  still 
night,  we  advanced  without  thought  of  any  im- 
mediate danger.  Indeed  the  occurrence  of  the 
past  few  hours  was  more  like  a  dream  than  a 
reality  to  our  minds.  The  very  swiftness  of 
events  had  left  us  dazed;  my  own  thoughts  were 
more  concerned  with  her  than  with  our  pursuers, 
near  as  they  might  be. 

Once  she  asked: 


A  MAN  AND  A  MAID  199 

"Do  you  suppose  Brandt  will  go  there  to- 
night?" 

"Where?  to  the  hangar?" 

"Yes;  it  would  be  disastrous  if  they  arrived 
there  first." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"The  fortunes  of  war,  Mademoiselle,"  I  re- 
plied rather  indifferently,  "but  I  imagine  they 
will  seek  for  me  at  the  hotel  first.  An  attempt 
to  get  away  by  air  would  scarcely  occur  to  any 
of  them  as  possible." 

"I  presume  not,"  she  agreed  softly.  "That  is 
why  it  may  succeed,  but — but  someway  the  very 
thought  frightens  me." 

We  came  out  upon  the  street,  rounding  the 
corner  post  of  stone,  and  confronted  a  policeman, 
who  stepped  forth  from  the  shadow,  with  a  gest- 
ure of  his  night-stick  in  command  to  halt. 


CHAPTER  XV 

HIGH   SPEED   FORWARD 

THE  fellow  stared  suspiciously  into  our 
faces,  and  I  felt  the  girl's  fingers  clasp 
my  arm  as  if  in  signal  for  me  to  restrain 
myself.  The  scrutiny  was  over  in  a  moment, 
neither  of  us  stirring,  waiting  for  his  first  word 
to  disclose  whether  or  not  he  knew  we  were 
wanted  by  his  superiors.  My  own  brain  was  a 
blur;  I  could  think  of  no  way  to  reasonably  ex- 
plain our  presence  there  at  such  an  hour.  That 
the  policeman  was  also  puzzled  was  evident  by 
the  expression  on  his  face.  Our  appearance  was 
not  that  of  night  prowlers,  of  street  waifs. 

"Whut  's  ther  two  ov'  yer  doing,  dodgin' 
'round  here  in  ther  dark?"  he  questioned  shortly. 
"I  niver  saw  nuthin'  ov  yer  till  just  now.  Come 
now,  whut 's  it  mane?" 

His  eyes  were  upon  me,  but  it  was  the  woman 
who,  with  quick  wit,  answered: 

"That  is  all  right,  officer,"  and  she  opened  her 

200 


HIGH  SPEED  FORWARD       201 

small  hand-bag,  and  extracted  a  card.  "This 
will  explain." 

He  took  it  rather  doubtfully,  and  held  it  up 
to  the  light,  studying  out  the  letters  slowly. 

"Is  it  a  raporter  ye  are!  So  thet  's  it;  Oi  've 
heard  ov  famale  raporters  many  a  toime,  but  yez 
th'  furst  specimen  thet  iver  floated  my  way. 
Th'  Press  was  it  ye  workin'  on?  Not  much  av 
a  papper  ter  my  thinkin'.  An'  th'  other  wan 
was  he  a  raporter  too?" 

She  nodded  pleasantly,  but  I  could  feel  her 
form  trembling  with  excitement. 

"Whut  's  th'  matter  with  th'  man  then?  Sure 
has  he  lost  his  voice?" 

She  drew  a  quick  breath,  still  holding  tight  to 
my  arm. 

"He  is  a  German,  connected  with  the  Zeitung; 
he  speaks  English  very  imperfectly." 

The  officer's  eyes  swept  our  faces,  as  though 
not  entirely  satisfied  with  this  explanation,  yet 
one  thing  was  clear,  we  were  unrecognized;  he 
had  received  no  orders  regarding  our  arrest. 

"What  was  the  two  av  yez  doing  out  here  at 
this  toime  o'  night?" 

"Interviewing  the  German  Ambassador.     He 


202  THE  AIR  PILOT 

is  spending  the  night  at  the  Senator's  home  in 
the  park,  and  we  were  sent  out  to  talk  with  him. 
That  is  why  this  gentleman  accompanied  me,  be- 
cause he  speaks  the  language.  It  is  late,  officer, 
and  we  are  in  a  hurry  to  get  in  our  copy.  Can 
you  tell  me  where  the  nearest  public  phone  sta- 
tion is?" 

He  jerked  his  thumb  back  over  his  shoulder, 
returning  the  menacing  night-stick  to  his  belt. 

"It 's  two  blocks  thet  way,  Miss/'  more  cour- 
tesy in  his  tones,  "where  yer  see  the  red  light. 
Oi  'm  travelin'  that  direction  meself  ter  call 
up  th'  station." 

We  started  off  together,  and  I  caught  the 
questioning  flash  of  her  eyes.  The  same  thought, 
and  fear  was  in  both  our  minds.  We  had  walked 
a  block,  the  officer  slightly  in  advance,  before  she 
spoke  again. 

"How  often  do  you  report  to  your  station?" 

"  'Bout  ivery  hour;  Oi  'm  a  bit  late  this  toime, 
wid  a  plain  drunk  ter  take  home,  over  on  Prairie 
lAvenoo." 

"You  receive  instructions  then,  I  suppose?" 

"Plenty  o'  'em,  Miss,"  and  he  shot  back  a 
glance  at  her  that  closed  the  conversation,  "the 


HIGH  SPEED  FORWARD       203 

sargint  gives  up  information  with  grate  free- 
dom." 

The  situation  was  a  ticklish  one.  Her  eyes 
were  grave  and  thoughtful  in  the  gleam  of  the 
street  lights,  but  I  could  venture  no  suggestion 
because  of  the  strangeness  of  the  locality.  One 
or  two  daring  plans  for  evading  the  officer 
flashed  through  my  mind,  but  I  could  not  ven- 
ture putting  either  into  operation  without  first 
consulting  my  lady.  This  was  a  case  for  her 
quick,  feminine  wit,  rather  than  my  bungling 
methods.  Yet  that  we  both  feared  the  same 
thing  was  apparent.  The  officer  had  not  com- 
municated with  his  station  for  an  hour.  We  had 
not  been  absent  from  the  house  that  length  of 
time.  If  an  alarm  had  been  made;  if  we  were 
wanted,  the  information  would  be  given  him  at 
once,  as  soon  as  he  pulled  the  box,  and  reported. 
That  he  would  instantly  recognize  us  as  being 
the  parties  sought  was  beyond  question.  The 
description  Brandt  could  furnish  of  us  both 
would  be  conclusive  and  accurate.  The  dullest 
cop  on  the  force  could  not  mistake  our  identity. 
Besides  it  was  clear  this  fellow  was  not  entirely 
satisfied  even  now  as  to  the  truth  of  the  story 


204  THE  AIR  PILOT 

Miss  Probyn  had  told — the  extreme  lateness  of 
the  hour,  our  sudden  appearance  on  foot,  was 
calculated  to  arouse  suspicion.  In  all  probabil- 
ity he  would  not  entirely  lose  sight  of  us  until 
more  thoroughly  convinced.  Violence  was  im- 
possible, as  he  was  evidently  a  powerful  fellow, 
well  armed,  and  besides  we  were  approaching  a 
street  car  line,  and  a  corner,  where,  even  at  this 
early  hour,  men  were  awake  and  stirring. 

As  we  drew  nearer  the  change  was  very  ap- 
parent. There  was  a  news-stand  on  the  curb,  the 
Italian  boy  in  charge  already  busily  arranging 
his  first  supply  of  morning  papers  in  glare  of 
the  arc  light.  Behind  him  was  an  all-night  drug 
store  open  for  business,  and  two  doors  away  a 
restaurant,  one  of  its  tables  occupied  by  three 
men  who  had  evidently  been  making  a  night  of 
it.  Out  in  front  was  a  taxi-cab,  the  chauffeur 
nodding  sleepily  in  one  corner  of  his  seat.  Be- 
yond a  few  stores  exhibited  lighted  windows,  al- 
though the  doors  were  closed.  A  street  car  jan- 
gled past,  containing  a  few  passengers,  pausing 
at  the  corner  to  let  off  a  fellow  in  bedraggled 
evening  dress,  half  seas  over,  and  then  went  nois- 
ily on  again.    The  policeman  watched  the  belated 


HIGH  SPEED  FORWARD        205 

one's  uncertain  progress  up  a  side  street  with 
professional  solicitude. 

"Lives  in  the  third  house,"  he  explained 
gravely.  "He  11  make  it  all  right.  Your  phone 
is  there  in  th'  drug-store,  lady.  It 's  th'  other 
corner  for  me." 

He  started  across,  but  I  noticed  glanced  back 
to  be  sure  of  what  we  were  doing.  There  was 
no  car  in  sight  approaching  the  corner,  and  we 
could  not  vanish  on  foot  in  the  brief  time  required 
to  pull  his  box.  Besides  he  merely  vaguely  sus- 
picioned  us,  without  any  thought  that  we  were 
actually  wanted.  I  turned  with  her  into  the 
drug-store  door,  dimly  wondering  what  possible 
means  of  escape  from  this  predicament  had  oc- 
curred to  her.  I  had  no  scheme,  no  plan.  The 
thought  of  that  policeman  approaching  the  box 
dominated  my  brain.  Would  he  come  rushing 
back  to  put  us  under  arrest? 

"Stay  here,"  she  murmured,  without  ventur- 
ing to  glance  aside.  "I  '11  step  within,  so  he  can 
feel  safe.  Be  ready  to  crank  that  taxi,  and  han- 
dle the  chauffeur.     You  understand?" 

"Yes." 

"It  will  all  have  to  be  done  in  a  minute.     Run 


206  THE  AIR  PILOT 

the  instant  the  officer  turns  to  insert  his  key  in 
the  box." 

She  slipped  away,  and  I  stood  there,  every 
nerve  strained,  watching.  The  burly  figure  was 
plainly  visible,  and  I  could  discern  each  move- 
ment. On  the  opposite  curb  he  stopped  and 
stared  back  through  the  gloom  toward  the  lights. 
What  he  saw  was  sufficiently  reassuring,  for  she 
was  within  bending  over  the  telephone  book,  and 
I  was  leaning  carelessly  against  the  frame  of 
the  window,  apparently  idly  waiting  for  the  lady 
to  reappear.  No  doubt  with  that  glance  the  fel- 
low dismissed  his  last  vague  suspicion  of  us — to 
all  appearance  we  were  exactly  what  we  had 
claimed  to  be.  He  turned  to  the  box,  and 
dragged  out  his  key,  his  broad  back  toward  the 
drug-store ;  then  bent  forward  to  fit  the  key  into 
the  lock.  I  poised  myself  for  the  rush,  my  heart 
beginning  to  throb,  my  muscles  tense  in  eager- 
ness of  action.  I  waited  a  second,  fearful  he 
might  venture  one  more  glance,  then  leaped  si- 
lently across  to  the  curb,  and  gripped  the  crank 
of  the  machine. 

It  had  to  be  accomplished  with  one  whirl,  and 
it  was.    At  the  sudden  reverberation  the  slumber- 


HIGH  SPEED  FORWARD       207. 

ing  chauffeur  came  to  life,  ripping  out  a  volley: 
of  oaths  before  he  fairly  had  his  eyes  open. 

"Here  you!"  I  ordered  sternly,  shoving  the 
muzzle  of  a  revolver  into  his  face.  "Stay  where 
you  are."  She  was  at  the  side  door  and  had 
opened  it.  With  one  step  I  slipped  in  beside 
her,  and  thrust  the  barrel  hard  against  the  fel- 
low's neck.     "Straight  ahead!  and  drive  fast." 

He  shot  one  frightened  glance  back  at  me, 
caught  the  gleam  of  steel,  and  turned  on  the 
power.  The  taxi  shot  forward,  flinging  us  both 
back  against  the  cushions.  I  caught  one  glimpse 
of  the  men  in  the  restaurant  springing  to  their 
feet,  and  the  startled  face  of  the  newsboy  as  we 
whirled  madly  past  his  stand.  I  could  not  see 
the  policeman,  but  heard  his  revolver  bark  twice, 
mingled  with  a  command  to  halt.  Then  we  were 
out  of  the  light,  plunging  recklessly  along  be- 
side the  car  track. 

"Which  way?"  I  asked  the  figure  beside  me. 

"First  turn  to  the  left,"  she  replied  breath- 
lessly. "They  cannot  catch  us;  have  the  man 
drive  slower." 

I  gave  the  order,  and  the  fellow  obeyed,  screw- 
ing his  head  around  in  an  effort  to  look  behind. 


208  THE  AIR  PILOT 

Evidently  the  sound  of  a  woman's  voice  had 
slightly  revived  his  courage. 

"Say,  Miss,"  he  implored,  "have  that  fellow 
take  his  gun  away.  I  ain't  goin'  to  play  no  trick 
on  you." 

"You  will  drive  just  as  we  say?"  she  asked. 
"I  know  the  city." 

"Sure;  we  git  used  to  all  sorts  o'  rum  affairs 
running  night  cabs.  I  don't  care  where  you  go, 
so  I  git  paid,  only,"  his  voice  sorrowful,  "I  lost  a 
matter  o'  seven  dollars  leavin'  those  guys  back 
there." 

"I  '11  pay  their  bill,  as  well  as  my  own,"  I  said 
convincingly.  "It  will  be  worth  your  while  to 
drive  as  we  tell  you,  and  keep  quiet  about  it. 
Only  don't  forget  the  revolver  is  here,  and  I 
know  how  to  use  it.  Tell  him  where  you  wish 
to  go,  Mademoiselle." 

She  leaned  forward,  her  face  to  the  single 
opened  window,  speaking  rapidly.  I  heard  her 
name  a  number  of  to  me  unfamiliar  streets,  but 
failed  to  distinguish  clearly  all  she  said.  The 
chauffeur  asked  no  questions,  nodding  his  head, 
and  saying  "Yes,  mum,"  his  eyes  on  the  street 
ahead. 


HIGH  SPEED  FORWARD        209 

"Keep  within  the  speed  limits ;  we  do  not  care 
to  stir  up  any  more  policemen." 

He  grinned  knowingly,  and  she  settled  back 
into  the  darkness  beside  me. 

"Your  orders  sounded  rather  complicated,"  I 
ventured  in  a  whisper.  "Are  you  sure  he  under- 
stands?" 

"Oh,  yes ;  to  one  knowing  the  streets  they  were 
simple  enough.  It  is  necessary  to  confuse  our 
pursuers,  or  they  might  guess  where  we  were  go- 
ing." 

"Do  you  mind  telling  me  where  that  is?  I 
cannot  help  feeling  an  interest  in  knowing." 

She  laughed,  somewhat  nervously. 

"Why,  of  course;  I  have  assumed  absolute 
command,  haven't  I?  You  mustn't  be  angry, 
Monsieur,  because  I  knew  the  way,  and  you  did 
not.     That  was  my  reason  for  being  so  forward." 

"I  understood  that,  and  am  most  grateful.  I 
was  unable  to  perceive  any  means  of  escape. 
You  are  a  wonderful  woman." 

"I?  Oh,  no!  no!  I  am  so  frightened  it 
is  remarkable  that  I  can  think  at  all.  The  see- 
ing this  taxi  at  the  curb  was  an  inspiration.  I 
hardly  dared  hope  we  could  make  it  quickly 


210  THE  AIR  PILOT 

enough,  but — but  it  was  our  only  chance.  The 
whole  credit  is  yours  for  handling  the  chauffeur. 
All  I  had  to  do  was  to  open  the  door,  and  get  in 
with  a  rush,"  she  laughed. 

"You  originated  the  plan;  the  possibility  never 
occurred  to  me." 

"I  grant  that;  merely  a  flash  of  intuition  with 
which  they  say  my  sex  is  endowed,"  she  admitted. 
"But  I  contend  the  execution  was  far  the  more 
important." 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  and,  in  the 
flashing  past  of  a  street  light,  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  her  face,  a  swift,  tantalizing  glimpse. 

"But  you  have  not  told  me,  Mademoiselle?" 

"Told  you  what?  If  there  be  any  secret  I 
know  it  not." 

"Our  destination." 

"But  you  heard  what  I  said  to  the  chauffeur?" 

"Only    a    part — a    mere    jumble    of    street 


names." 


She  drew  a  quick  breath,  leaning  slightly  for- 
ward, one  hand  grasping  the  window  frame  in 
front. 

"We  are  going  to  where  your  machine  is 
stored,"  she  answered,  in  low  voice,  not  alto- 


HIGH  SPEED  FORWARD        211 

gether  steady.  "When  we  get  there  you  must 
assume  command." 

"To  the  hangar!"  and  I  could  not  restrain  an 
accent  of  exultation.  "You  will  go  with  me, 
Mademoiselle?" 

"What  else  is  there  I  could  do?"  she  asked 
gravely.  "I  could  not  leave  you  to  wander 
about  alone.  I — I  had  no  choice  left,  but  to 
trust  you." 

"I  am  cruel  enough  to  rejoice,"  I  said,  and 
placed  my  hand  upon  hers. 

"Monsieur;  that  is  not  nice.  I  said  'trust 
you' ;  I  meant  your  courtesy,  your  consideration. 
Please  understand  I  am  not  afraid  physically; 
that  is  not  it  at  all.  Under  ordinary  condi- 
tions I  would  welcome  the  excitement  of  such 
an  experience;  I  enjoy  taking  chances.  In  one 
sense  I  have  enjoyed  our  adventures  tonight. 
Perhaps  I  am  of  a  strange  nature,  altogether 
too  unconventional,  but  I  am  what  I  am.  This 
is  not  an  apology,  only  an  explanation."  She 
laughed  again,  her  eyes  flashing  across  to  mine  in 
a  passing  gleam  of  light.  "So  that  is  not  my 
fear  at  all,"  she  went  on,  giving  me  no  opportu- 
nity to  interrupt,  or  protest.     "The  physical  dan- 


212  THE  AIR  PILOT 

ger  involved  gives  me  no  concern.  You  are  an 
expert  aviator,  Monsieur,  and  I  can  trust  you 
fully  on  that  score.  It  is  something  vastly  dif- 
ferent which  makes  me  hesitate.  Do  you  realize 
what  I  risk,  Monsieur,  by  such  an  indiscretion? 
I  may  even  forfeit  your  own  respect." 

"How  can  you  say  that?  or  even  dream  such  a 
thing?" 

"Because  I  know  something  of  human  nature," 
she  returned  regretfully.  "No,  listen;  you  have 
ventured  already  much  farther  than  you  would 
have  dared  had  our  first  meeting  been  a  conven- 
tional one.  You  may  like  me,  it  is  true — I  cer- 
tainly hope  you  do — but  nevertheless  I  am  not 
on  the  same  plane  in  your  estimation  with  the 
ladies  of  your  own  world.  Oh,  but  I  am  not; 
your  words  cannot  deceive  me.  They  go  into 
one  ear,  and  out  the  other  as  they  should— for  I 
know." 

"That  I  am  insincere?  untrustworthy?" 

"Oh,  no!  not  nearly  so  bad  as  that.  If  that 
was  my  conception,  Monsieur,  I  would  leave  you 
at  the  next  corner.  See!  we  are  almost  there, 
yet  I  do  not  order  the  chauffeur  to  stop.  Why? 
Because  I  am  going  to  trust  you — trust  you  to 


HIGH  SPEED  FORWARD        213 

be  a  gentleman.  Is  that  sufficiently  explicit, 
Monsieur?" 

I  bent  my  head,  comprehending  fully  her 
meaning  and  purpose.  The  clear  insistence  of 
her  words  brought  conviction  instantly.  I  could 
not  pretend  to  any  misunderstanding. 

"I  yield  to  your  interpretation  of  human  na- 
ture," I  agreed,  seeking  to  dismiss  the  matter 
lightly.  "But  please  remember  the  exception  to 
all  rules." 

"I  remain  just  a  little  hopeful,"  she  responded, 
apparently  in  the  same  spirit,  "but  must  leave 
you  to  demonstrate  that  under  other  conditions." 

"Then  you  are  not  so  indifferent?" 

"I  have  never  expressed  indifference,  Mon- 
sieur; all  of  life  is  of  interest  to  me.  I  merely 
strive  to  guard  against  mistakes." 

I  stared  forth  into  the  night,  silenced  for  the 
moment;  then  sought  to  distinguish  her  face. 
She  was  looking  out  at  the  houses  whirling  past. 

"Do  you  know  where  we  are?" 

"Nearing  Fifty-ninth  Street;  we  shall  turn 
east  in  a  moment  toward  the  lake.  Your  hangar 
is  not  far  from  the  shore?" 

"No;  I  could  see  water  in  the  distance  yester- 


214  THE  AIR  PILOT 

day ;  a  block,  perhaps  two,  away ;  I  did  not  ask." 
"It  is  where  I  supposed.  I  remember  the  va- 
cant lot  there.  We  have  a  few  moments  more; 
will  you  not  tell  me  about  your  machine?  I — I 
know  so  little,  and^— and  surely  I  ought  to  know 
something." 


G 


CHAPTER  XVI 

MISS   PROBYN    CHOOSES 

"/^LADLY,"  I  said,  "if  I  only  under- 
stood what  it  was  you  desired  to 
learn ;  to  me  it  is  most  simple." 

"You  have  no  fear?  no  doubt  but  what  this 
flight  you  contemplate  can  be  safely  made?" 

"None  whatever,  Mademoiselle,"  smilingly. 
"With  me  it  is  but  one  of  many." 

"Yes,  but  not  under  such  conditions;  in  the 
dark,  without  the  assistance  of  your  men,  travers- 
ing a  strange  country.  Is  it  not  reckless  to  at- 
tempt such  a  thing?" 

"Of  course  I  would  prefer  it  otherwise,"  I 
answered,  appreciating  her  doubt.  "But  where 
is  the  choice,  Mademoiselle?  You  say  it  offers 
the  only  free  egress  from  this  city;  the  only 
safety  from  arrest.  I  do  not  recall  whether  it 
was  originally  your  suggestion,  or  mine,  but  I 
perceive  nothing  particularly  dangerous  in  the 
venture." 

315 


216  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"Not  even  if  you  transport  a  passenger?" 

"The  machine  was  constructed  with  that  in 
view;  it  was  built  for  military  use,  to  carry  an 
observer  as  well  as  an  operator.  I  have  had  a 
companion  with  me  in  all  my  long-distance 
flights." 

"Is  the  monoplane  very  large,  Monsieur?" 

"Not  extraordinary;  the  weight,  with  all  sup- 
plies aboard,  is  about  twelve  hundred  pounds, 
and  the  aerofoils  have  a  spread  of  thirty-two 
feet." 

"The  aerofoils?" 

"The  wings  I  mean;  surely  you  have  seen 
aerial  demonstrations?" 

"Only  at  a  distance,  when  high  in  the  air," 
she  explained.  "I  possess  only  a  vague  idea  of 
the  machines  used." 

"Well,  mine  does  not  differ  in  general  appear- 
ance from  those  others.  I  steer  by  foot  levers, 
and  use  small  wing  tips — ailerons — with  which 
to  secure  stability.  This  is  the  latest  French 
type,  but  the  one  peculiarity,  which  I  am  seeking 
to  guard  from  publicity,  is  the  motor;  it  is  of 
great  power,  and  practically  noiseless.  That 
is  what  gives  it  such  value  from  a  military  stand- 


MISS  PROBYN  CHOOSES        217 

point.  It  is  almost  inaudible  a  hundred  feet 
away  when  at  full  speed." 

"What  is  full  speed?" 

"With  a  passenger  I  have  made  ninety  miles 
an  hour." 

She  looked  at  the  face  of  her  watch  in  the 
gleam  of  a  passing  light,  the  cab  slowing  down 
as  it  rounded  a  corner. 

"And  we  have  two  hours  yet  until  daylight — 
one  hundred  and  eighty  miles." 

"Far  too  much  to  expect,"  I  explained  quickly. 
"The  air  conditions  may  not  be  right,  and  many 
things  might  occur  to  cause  delay.  Yet  even 
if  we  attained  half  that  speed  we  should  be  be- 
yond danger.  Once  safely  in  the  air,  and  we 
can  laugh  at  pursuit." 

"You  fear  trouble  before  then?"  anxiously. 

"Yes,  I  do,  Mademoiselle;  I  do  not  believe 
Brandt  will  be  foiled  so  easily.  He  is  the  very 
one  to  suspect  this  plan  of  ours,  and  will  hasten 
here  to  get  ahead.  Besides  it  is  the  secret  of 
my  motor  which  he  is  so  eager  to  learn.  He 
cares  little  for  me,  or  you — what  becomes  of  us — 
so  long  as  he  can  shift  the  suspicions  of  the  po- 
lice in  our  direction,  and  thus  be  free  himself. 


218  THE  AIR  PILOT 

Wherever  he  sends  the  others  in  search,  he  him- 
self will  come  here,  assured  that  if  we  are  not 
present,  he  will  discover  a  clear  field  for  investi- 
gation. But  I  do  not  imagine  he  will  come 
alone — he  is  hardly  that  kind." 

"What  will  you  do?" 

"Discover  first  just  what  we  must  meet.  Are 
we  really  there?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so." 

I  touched  the  shoulder  of  the  chauffeur,  and 
he  glanced  around  startled. 

"Stop  a  block  this  side  of  where  the  lady  told 
you,"  I  said  shortly.  "Turn  into  a  side  street 
first,  and  be  quiet  about  it." 

"Yes,  sir,"  evidently  relieved. 

We  rounded  into  a  dark  opening,  and  came  to 
a  stop  against  the  curb.  Before  us  was  a  block 
of  unlighted  houses,  almost  alike  in  general  ap- 
pearance, while  the  deserted  walk  was  over- 
shadowed by  trees.  I  stepped  out,  and  assisted 
Miss  Probyn  to  follow,  noting  how  anxiously  she 
surveyed  the  shadows.  I  handed  the  chauffeur 
a  bill. 

"That  will  make  up  your  loss." 

"Yes,  sir,  thank  you.     Shall  I  wait  here?" 


MISS  PROBYN  CHOOSES        219 

"No;  disappear;  go  a  block  south  before  you 
turn.     Good  night." 

He  touched  his  cap,  and,  in  a  moment  more, 
we  were  alone.  I  felt  her  hand  clasp  my  arm, 
and  looked  down  into  her  face.  Now  that  I 
was  upon  my  feet  once  more,  and  in  command 
of  the  affair,  my  natural  coolness  reasserted  it- 
self; I  felt  a  confidence  that  we  were  destined  to 
succeed.  I  could  only  rejoice  at  the  sequence  of 
events  which  had  conspired  to  compel  her  to  re- 
main with  me. 

"You  are  frightened  now,  Mademoiselle,"  I 
whispered,  "just  as  I  begin  to  enjoy  myself." 

"I  am — a  little — yes,"  she  admitted,  glancing 
up  into  my  eyes,  as  though  endeavoring  to  in- 
terpret my  meaning.  "You  have  made  me  fear 
that  Captain  Brandt  is  here  before  us." 

"That  was  only  a  guess;  but  even  if  he  is  I 
feel  perfectly  confident  of  handling  the  situa- 
tion. We  have  won  so  far  against  the  man,  and 
I  do  not  believe  the  god  of  luck  has  deserted  us." 

I  spoke  lightly,  but  the  expression  of  her  face 
did  not  change. 

"It  is  the  police  I  am  afraid  of." 

"And  it  is  my  faith  that  Brandt  will  hesitate 


220  THE  AIR  PILOT 

to  make  use  of  those  allies.  He  would  prefer 
that  we  be  sought,  and  not  found,  just  at  pres- 
ent. I  did  suggest  that  he  might  suspect  our 
plan  of  escape,  and  come  here  to  intercept  us, 
but  I  do  not,  in  the  least,  believe  that  true.  He 
would  not  deem  such  an  attempt  possible.  He 
does  not  understand  the  nature  of  my  machine, 
its  readiness  for  service,  or  the  ease  with  which 
it  can  be  launched.  The  ordinary  monoplane  re- 
quires a  crew  of  men,  and  hours  of  preparation. 
I  suspect  he  may  be  here  ahead  of  us,  and  with 
assistance,  but  they  will  not  be  police.  He  will 
take  this  opportunity,  believing  I  am  fleeing 
from  arrest,  to  break  into  the  hangar,  and  in- 
vestigate my  discoveries.  Our  appearance  will 
be  a  surprise." 

She  did  not  answer,  but  her  eyes  were  upon 
my  face  questioningly,  and  I  went  on  explaining. 

"His  confidence  of  safety  is  what  I  count  on 
to  bring  us  success.  This  is  really  the  very  last 
place  where  he  would  expect  me  to  appear.  He 
knows  by  this  time  of  the  death  of  Franzen,  and 
your  disappearance  with  me.  He  will  take  it 
for  granted  that  I  killed  the  man,  and  have  for- 
gotten everything  else  in  an  eagerness  to  escape 


MISS  PROBYN  CHOOSES        221 

arrest.  He  will  come  here  unprepared  for  seri- 
ous resistance,  expecting  to  meet  De  Vigne 
alone.  One  of  the  Pinkerton  guard,  at  least,  is 
in  his  pay,  and  he  would  not  expect  my  man  to 
put  up  much  of  a  fight  single-handed.  It  is  our 
audacity  which  gives  us  a  chance  to  win  out." 

"But  what  can  I  do?" 

"Nothing,  except  to  remain  quiet,  and  out  of 
danger.     You  have  a  pistol?" 

"No,  certainly  not." 

"I  thought  you  threatened  Franzen.  You 
will  stay  where  I  tell  you?  You  will  wait  for 
me?" 

She  looked  directly  into  my  eyes. 

"I — I  do  not  see  what  else  I  can  do,"  she  said 
soberly.  "But — but,  Monsieur,  am  I  doing 
right?" 

"You  are  simply  trusting  me,  showing  faith 
in  me;  I  think  that  is  right." 

"But  it  is  all  so  strange,  so  unusual;  I  feel  as 
though  I  was  in  a  dream,  and  must  awaken.  I 
cannot  even  think  clearly,  and  decide  for  my- 
self." 

"Then  let  me  decide  for  you,"  and  I  clasped 
the  hand  pressing  my  sleeve.     "Listen,  Made- 


222  THE  AIR  PILOT 

moiselle.  You  are  involved  in  all  this  so  tightly 
that  you  cannot  possibly  escape  the  coils  in  any 
other  way — can  you?  Even  if  Brandt  does  not 
name  you  as  an  accomplice  of  mine,  that  detect- 
ive recognized  you  at  the  door,  and  later  you 
gave  your  business  card  to  the  patrolman.  They 
will  search  every  place  where  you  are  known  to 
go;  will  interview  your  friends.  In  all  this  city 
you  could  find  no  spot  in  which  to  hide,  nor  any 
means  of  getting  out." 

"But — but,"  her  fingers  clung  to  me,  and  I 
could  feel  the  trembling  of  her  form,  "that  means 
my  reputation,  my  good  name — " 

"Yes,  I  know  it  does;  either  way  they  are  in- 
volved. Yet  it  seems  to  me  an  arrest,  a  trial  in 
the  police  court,  would  result  the  more  disas- 
trously; the  evidence  is  strong.  However  if 
you  choose  the  only  other  course,  you  have  noth- 
ing to  rely  upon  but  myself — my  word,  my 
honor.     Can  you  trust  these,  Mademoiselle?" 

I  could  hear  the  leaves  rustling  in  the  branches 
overhead,  the  distant  clangor  of  a  passing  street 
car.  Her  eyes  were  downcast,  then  uplifted 
again  to  mine. 

"It   means,"   she   said   slowly,   thoughtfully, 


MISS  PROBYN  CHOOSES        223 

"that  if  we  fail,  if  any  accident  happens,  we  shall 
both  be  captured,  and  have  to  face  these  horrible 
charges  together?" 

"Yes,  Mademoiselle." 

"And  will  my  going  add  to  your  danger?  les- 
sen your  chances  to  escape?" 

"Not  in  the  least,"  eagerly.  "I  told  you  be- 
fore the  monoplane  was  built  to  bear  two  per- 
sons; it  will  ride  steadier." 

She  drew  a  deep  breath,  but  her  hand  remained 
in  mine. 

"And  it  means,"  she  went  on,  as  though  there 
had  been  no  interruption  on  my  part,  "if  we  do 
succeed  in  getting  safely  out  of  the  city,  I  shall 
have  to  disappear,  utterly  vanish." 

"Merely  from  Chicago  for  the  present,"  I  as- 
sured her  hastily.  "No  one  will  ever  press  this 
case.  Once  Brandt  fails  in  gaining  what  he  is 
seeking  after,  he  will  be  only  too  glad  to  hush 
the  whole  matter  up.  The  German  Embassy 
will  realize  that  a  court  trial  would  reveal  their 
entire  system  of  secret  service  in  this  country,  and 
will  devise  means  for  concealing  the  whole  affair. 
The  police  have  no  special  incentive  to  hunt  us 
down,  and  will  doubtless  find  it  convenient  to  do 


224  THE  AIR  PILOT 

otherwise.  I  believe,  Mademoiselle,  that  if  we 
can  once  make  the  escape  there  will  be  no  pur- 
suit." 

"Then  I  merely  disappear?  simply  drop  out  of 
sight?" 

"Yes,  your  friends  will  wonder,  but — " 

"Oh,  it  is  not  so  much  friends.  I  have  ac- 
quaintances, of  course,  but  none  who  will  be 
greatly  alarmed.  I  was  not  thinking  of  others, 
but  myself,  Monsieur  — my  life." 

"Your  life?    You  mean  your  future?" 

"Yes;  it  is  such  a  reckless  thing  to  do,  a  leap 
into  the  dark.  You  do  not  realize  the  conse- 
quences; I  am  not  even  sure  that  I  do — but — 
but  it  frightens  me  a  little.  I  sprang  into  the 
cab,  because  I  was  impelled  to  by  the  conditions ; 
it  was  the  impulse  of  a  moment.  But  now  I 
hesitate  to  go  on,  to  do  what  I  half  promised 
you  I  would.     It  means  I  must  risk  everything." 

"You  have  no  reference  to  danger — physical 
danger?" 

Her  quick  gesture  was  scornful. 

"Not  for  a  moment.  I  could  laugh  at  that. 
Nor  do  I  fear  others,  what  the  world  might  say, 
the  scandal  of  tongues.     What  I  am  afraid  of, 


MISS  PROBYN  CHOOSES        225 

Monsieur,  is  myself,  my  own  self-respect,  my 
own  judgment  of  right  and  wrong.  For  I  am 
my  own  judge,  and  abide  by  my  judgment. 
You  believe  in  me,  Monsieur?" 

"I  do." 

"Yet  you  have  known  me  only  through  the 
darkness  of  this  night.  Why,  if  it  was  not  so 
serious,  it  would  be  ridiculous.  I — I  cannot 
laugh,  and  yet  I  am  half  inclined.  Can  you 
conceive  of  such  a  condition?  You  barely  know 
my  name,  my  business;  you  cannot  by  any  pos- 
sibility read  my  character,  or  be  acquainted  with 
my  associates.  Yet  you  urge  me  to  fly  with  you 
in  the  night  to  some  unknown  spot;  ask  me  to 
leave  all  and  trust  you,  a  stranger.  Monsieur, 
why  do  you  do  this?  how  can  you  venture  to  ask 
it  of  me?  Is  it  because  you  think  me  of  a  lower 
order?  of  a  class  to  care  little  for  consequences? 
Is  it  your  foreign  conception  of  women  who 
work,  who  earn  their  own  living,  which  gives  you 
courage  to  make  such  a  proposal?  Do  you 
realize  what  it  may  cost  me  to  say  yes  ?" 

"I  think  I  do,  Mademoiselle,"  I  replied  ear- 
nestly, moved  by  the  intensity  of  her  manner, 
"yet  your  words  are  unjust.     The  choice  has  be- 


226  THE  AIR  PILOT 

come  restricted  to  one  of  two  things — to  remain 
here,  and  face  the  certainty  of  arrest,  or  trust 
yourself  to  my  skill  and  my  manhood.  I  can- 
not believe  you  lack  confidence  in  either." 

Her  hand  clasp  tightened. 

"I  do  not,"  she  said  firmly.  "If  I  did  I  should 
not  even  hesitate." 

"Then  why  do  you?    What  is  it  you  fear?" 

"Myself;  my  own  judgment.  But  I  am  go- 
ing to  trust  it,  Monsieur;  I  am  going  with  you, 
wherever  you  go." 

"You  are  strange,  Mademoiselle,"  gazing 
down  into  her  face.  "You  will  not  let  me  say 
what  I  wish,  yet  you  trust  me  in  everything?" 

"Yes,  in  everything.  It  must  be  that,  or  noth- 
ing. I  have,  as  you  say,  only  the  one  choice  be- 
tween two.  Very  well,  I  have  chosen;  it  is  to 
trust  you.     You  understand,  Monsieur?" 

"That  you  go  where  I  go." 

"And  do  whatever  you  say." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

AT   THE   HANGAR 

SOMEWAY,  as  never  before  in  all  my  ex- 
perience with  the  sex,  this  woman  held  me 
from  her.  Even  as  she  voiced  her  trust, 
there  remained  a  reserve  between  us  unbroken. 
She  accepted  my  protection,  yielded  to  my  sug- 
gestion, and  yet  I  could  not  determine  safely  the 
state  of  mind  which  impelled  her  to  this  action. 
There  were  words  of  love  trembling  upon  my 
lips,  but  they  remained  unspoken.  I  longed  to 
pour  forth  protestation  and  promise,  but  was  re- 
strained by  fear  lest  such  language  would  drive 
her  away.  I  had  no  thought  that  she  actually 
cared  for  me,  other  than  a  friendship  born  of 
the  night's  adventures.  There  was  nothing  in 
either  words  or  actions  to  yield  me  greater  hope. 
She  had  simply  chosen  the  part  which  seemed  to 
her  best.  It  had  no  direct  reference  to  me;  the 
choice  would  have  been  the  same  had  it  involved 
any  other  man  in  whom  she  reposed  confidence. 

227 


228  THE  AIR  PILOT 

I  seemed  to  read  all  this  in  her  uplifted  eyes,  as 
I  held  her  hands  tightly  clasped  in  mine,  and 
the  tease  was  fully  aware  of  my  predicament, 
her  smile  breaking  into  soft  laughter. 

"You  are  glad!" 

"Certainly  I  am;  now  I  can  go  forward  in  con- 
fidence." 

"But  I  will  only  burden  you." 

"Impossible,  Mademoiselle;  rather  you  in- 
spire." 

"Compliments,  Monsieur,  compliments,"  and 
she  drew  herself  gently  away.  "To  listen  only 
wastes  time,  and  we  need  the  moments.  You 
know  how  to  proceed?"  i 

"Yes,  we  will  go  now.  If  anyone  heard  the 
sound  of  the  motor  car,  they  will  believe  it  merely 
turned  this  corner,  and  passed  on." 

There  was  a  high  brick  wall,  surrounding 
some  institution,  and  we  kept  along  in  its  shadow, 
walking  noiselessly.  This  being  in  the  residence 
district  no  one  was  upon  the  street  at  so  early 
an  hour.  A  policeman  appeared  under  a  dis- 
tant light,  a  mere  dark  shadow,  and  we  waited 
silently  until  he  disappeared  up  a  side  street. 
Then  we  hurried  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  va- 


AT  THE  HANGAR  229 

cant  lot.  In  the  darkness  nothing  appeared 
familiar,  yet  I  knew  the  hangar  was  not  far 
away,  as  it  had  been  erected  not  far  from  the 
street  running  north  and  south.  I  stared  out 
into  the  open  space,  hoping  to  see  some  gleam  of 
light  which  would  act  as  a  guide,  but  all  was 
black  silence.  In  her  nervousness  the  girl 
pressed  close  to  my  side,  and  I  could  hear  her 
swift  breathing. 

"Is  this  the  place,  Monsieur?" 

"It  must  be;  it  is  situated  the  same,  although 
there  is  nothing  I  recognize.  The  hangar  should 
be  there,"  pointing,  "but  I  perceive  no  light." 

She  looked  in  the  direction  indicated,  shading 
her  eyes  with  one  hand. 

"There  is  something  to  the  left;  just  a  shape- 
less something,  it  might  be  a  shed." 

We  groped  our  way  forward  cautiously, 
across  a  slight  ditch,  edged  with  weeds,  and  then 
over  the  irregular  land,  covered  with  long  grass. 
Our  feet  sank  into  this  silently,  but  the  depres- 
sions caused  me  to  stumble,  and  I  again  caught 
her  hand.  Every  step  took  us  farther  from  the 
street  lamps,  and  I  could  no  longer  distinguish 
her  face;  ahead  the  gloom  was  almost  impene- 


230  THE  AIR  PILOT 

trable.  Suddenly  she  stopped,  holding  me 
tightly. 

"Wait!  be  still,"  she  whispered  swiftly.  "I 
can  see  now;  kneel  down  here — look  where  I 
point." 

I  made  out  the  outlines,  but  they  were  vague, 
indistinct.  Her  eyes  must  have  been  better  than 
mine,  for  as  I  continued  to  stare  at  the  object, 
she  spoke  again. 

"Do  you  see?  It  is  an  automobile.  Did  your 
men  have  one?" 

"No,"  instantly  realizing  what  this  must  mean. 
"Brandt  is  ahead  of  us.  That  is  why  there  is  no 
light;  he  is  up  to  mischief  already.  If  I  only 
knew  exactly  where  the  hangar  was!  I  am  lost 
in  this  darkness." 

"It  is  there,  Monsieur,  I  am  sure — beyond  the 
machine.  I  can  see  something  there  darker  than 
the  sky.     What  will  you  do?" 

"Examine  the  car  first.  We  must  be  sure  it 
is  empty.  Keep  behind  me  now,  but  not  so  far 
as  to  lose  sight  of  me." 

Without  waiting  to  hear  any  protest  I  moved 
forward,  revolver  in  hand,  assured  she  would 
never  remain  far  away,  yet  anxious  to  be  free 


AT  THE  HANGAR  231 

to  face  alone  any  danger  that  might  confront  us. 
That  this  automobile  had  been  used  to  transport 
Brandt,  and  some  of  his  party,  I  had  no  doubt. 
It  could  be  no  one  else,  for  they  alone  had  an 
object  to  be  accomplished  there  in  the  small  hours 
of  the  night.  And  I  must  win  out  against  them 
at  whatever  cost;  yet  I  was  alone — worse  than 
alone,  handicapped  by  the  presence  of  the  girl, 
and  pitted  against  I  knew  not  how  many.  My 
strength  lay  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  and 
the  fact  that  Brandt  would  naturally  think  this 
the  most  unlikely  place  for  me  to  come.  If,  by 
any  chance,  he  had  grown  careless — had  become 
reckless  in  the  apparent  success  of  his  scheme  to 
be  rid  of  me — then  there  was  still  hope  I  might 
checkmate  the  fellow  even  single-handed.  It 
was  worth  the  trying,  and  I  had  far  more  to  gain 
than  lose  in  the  venture. 

In  this  spirit  I  approached  the  black  shadow 
of  the  machine  from  the  rear,  studying  its  out- 
lines as  best  I  could  in  the  gloom,  becoming  more 
and  more  convinced  that  it  stood  there  deserted. 
A  moment  later  this  was  verified,  as  I  crept 
along  the  side,  and  felt  within,  to  assure  myself 
no  one  slept  in  the  seats.     As  I  straightened  up 


232  THE  AIR  PILOT 

again,  satisfied  on  this  point,  I  perceived  her 
shadow  already  at  the  rear  wheels. 

"There  is  no  one  there?" 

"No,  and  the  power  is  off.  A  seven-passenger 
car,  so  it  is  hard  to  judge  how  many  are  pres- 
ent." 

"You  believe  it  brought  Captain  Brandt?" 

"Yes,  and  others.  It  could  be  no  one  else 
here  at  such  an  hour,  and  he  would  not  be  alone 
in  a  car  of  this  size.  At  first  I  imagined  he 
might  expect  me  to  come  here,  but  I  have 
changed  my  mind.  He  believes  we  are  fright- 
ened by  the  police,  and  have  found  some  hiding 
place.  Otherwise  he  would  have  guards  out 
watching  for  me  to  appear ;  he  would  never  leave 
this  car  unprotected.     Do  you  think  he  would?" 

She  stood  thinking,  staring  about  into  the 
darkness,  hesitating  to  answer. 

"I — I  should  not  suppose  so,  unless — unless 
it  is  a  trap,  Monsieur ;  but  you  are  a  soldier,  you 
can  judge  better  than  I." 

"And  I  shall  take  no  unnecessary  risks.  I 
might  be  reckless  without  you  to  protect,  but 
could  not  be  with  you  here.  Can  you  see  the 
shed?" 


AT  THE  HANGAR  233 

"Yes,  it  is  almost  straight  ahead,  a  long,  low 
building,  but  it  is  all  dark." 

"If  there  was  a  light,"  I  explained,  "it  would 
not  show  from  this  side,  as  the  only  opening  is 
to  the  east.  There  is  a  small  workshop  at  the 
north  end,  built  on  to  the  original,  but  with  a 
door  between,  and  a  separate  entrance.  We 
will  try  to  attain  that." 

"Am  I  to  go  with  you?" 

"Will  not  that  be  better  than  remaining  here 
alone?  This  is  a  gloomy  spot,  and  someone 
might  come  out.  Once  in  the  shop  safely,  and 
the  chances  of  discovery  are  lessened." 

"I  can  do  as  you  say.  I  am  not  going  to  be 
afraid — but — Monsieur — ' '• 

"Yes." 

"You — you  will  be  careful!  You  realize  what 
it  will  mean  to  me  if  anything  happens  to  you?" 

"I  do,  Mademoiselle;  the  situation  would  be 
distressing.     I  will  do  my  best." 

"But  that  is  not  it,"  she  insisted,  speaking 
without  restraint.  "I  was  not  considering  my 
danger  so  much  as  yours.  These  men  could  have 
no  object  in  injuring  me,  but  would  gladly  do 
you  harm.    I — I  could  not  bear  that." 


234  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"You  do  care  then!     I  am  something  to  you?" 

"Of  course  I  care;  I  should  be  a  strange  girl 
if  I  did  not.  iYou  are  much  to  me;  so  much 
you  must  guard  yourself." 

"For  your  sake?" 

She  did  not  hesitate. 

"Yes — for  my  sake.    You  promise  me?" 

In  the  dark  I  bent  down  and  pressed  my  cheek 
to  her  own,  and,  to  my  surprise,  she  made  no 
effort  to  draw  away. 

"That  is  a  custom  in  my  country,"  I  said 
gravely,  half  fearing  she  might  be  offended, 
"the  symbol  of  a  pledge." 

"I  understand,"  and  she  stood  very  straight 
facing  me.  "This  night  has  broken  down  every 
conventional  barrier.  It  has  changed  me ;  I  can- 
not feel  or  think  as  I  could  yesterday.  I  do  not 
know  what  legerdemain  has  been  resorted  to, 
Monsieur,  but  I  am  not  the  same  girl  you  first 
met;  all  of  life  looks  different.  Perhaps  you 
can  tell  me  sometime  how  such  a  miraculous 
change  could  occur  in  a  single  night.  So  I  ac- 
cept your  pledge,"  and  she  gave  me  both  hands, 
"just  as  you  offer  it.  Now  we  are  pardners,  as 
they  say  out  West.     Is  not  that  it,  Monsieur." 


AT  THE  HANGAR  235 

"Pardners?  perhaps  I  do  not  comprehend  that 
term;  you  mean  friends?" 

"Even  more  than  friends;  associated  together 
for  a  purpose;  trusting  each  other.  You  know 
now?" 

"Yes,  and  we  will  go  at  once,  and  learn  our 
fate — as — as  pardners." 

It  may  have  been  a  hundred  feet  to  the  han- 
gar, grass-covered,  but  somewhat  rough.  I 
could  not  help  thinking  how  difficult  it  would 
be  to  start  the  monoplane  if  the  field  beyond 
was  equally  irregular,  yet  surely  it  would  not 
be;  the  mechanics  would  have  chosen  better,  and 
besides,  as  I  remembered  from  my  brief  visit  in 
the  afternoon,  there  was  nothing  to  criticise. 
We  saw  nothing,  heard  nothing,  as  we  drew 
closer  to  the  black  bulk  of  building,  and  groped 
our  way  along  its  side,  endeavoring  to  locate  the 
shed  to  the  north.  The  door,  as  I  vaguely  re- 
called, was  to  the  east,  and  I  left  her  at  the  cor- 
ner, concealed  by  the  dense  shadow,  and  crept 
cautiously  forward  alone,  feeling  along  the 
rough  boards  for  the  latch.  It  opened  noise- 
lessly enough,  but  the  darkness  within  was  in- 
tense.    So  dim  was  my  recollection  of  the  place 


236  THE  AIR  PILOT 

that  I  was  almost  afraid  to  stir  lest  I  might  dis- 
turb something  and  create  an  alarm.  In  the 
silence  I  became  aware  of  someone  stirring  not 
far  away,  and  waited  anxiously,  seeking  to  lo- 
cate the  sound.  In  the  silence  I  could  distin- 
guish heavy  breathing,  and  then  a  noise  which 
made  me  think  of  a  body  rolling  on  the  floor. 
I  stepped  within,  feeling  with  both  hands  and 
feet,  but  encountered  nothing  until  I  touched  a 
work-bench  against  the  opposite  wall.  As  I 
stood  there,  facing  about,  staring  into  the  black 
void,  I  could  locate  the  breathing  to  my  right. 

"Who  is  here?  answer!"  I  exclaimed,  bend- 
ing forward. 

There  was  no  reply,  only  a  recurrence  of  strug- 
gle, and,  after  a  moment  of  indecision,  I  felt  my 
way  along  the  bench,  and  came  in  contact  with 
the  figure  of  a  man  lying  on  the  floor.  Again 
I  spoke  sternly,  gripping  his  shoulder  in  my  fin- 
gers, but  received  no  reply.  Suspecting  that, 
whoever  the  fellow  might  be,  he  was  gagged  and 
helpless,  for  my  hand  already  discovered  a  strand 
of  rope  about  his  arm,  I  felt  for  his  face.  There 
was  a  cloth  in  his  mouth,  bound  tightly  into 
place  by  a  handkerchief  knotted  behind  his  head. 


AT  THE  HANGAR  237 

Whoever  the  man  might  be,  he  was  evidently  no 
ally  of  Brandt's  to  receive  such  treatment,  and 
I  slashed  the  linen  with  the  aid  of  his  pocket 
knife.  He  gasped  painfully,  gulping  down 
great  draughts  of  air. 

"Who  are  you?" 

"De  Vigne,"  he  gasped.  "Is  this  you,  Mon- 
sieur?" 

"Yes — here  let  me  cut  these  ropes  first  of  all. 
I  understand  what  has  happened  without  expla- 
nation at  present.  How  long  have  you  been  ly- 
ing here?" 

"Maybe  fifteen  minutes,  but  it  seems  longer; 
I  cannot  tell.     There  was  a  fight." 

"Of  course.     The  fellows  found  you  asleep?" 

"Yes,  Monsieur.  There  was  a  watch  outside, 
and  I  did  not  expect  trouble.  Ramon  was  away, 
and  I  sat  up  late  waiting  for  him  to  return. 
Then  I  became  sleepy  and  lay  down,  perhaps 
about  midnight.  But  first  I  went  out,  and  saw 
the  guard  was  all  right.  There  were  no  orders, 
Monsieur,  for  me  to  remain  on  watch." 

"I  do  not  blame  you,  De  Vigne ;  the  happenings 
of  this  night  could  not  have  been  anticipated  by 
any  of  us.     Can  you  sit  up?     Good ;  now  rise  to 


238  THE  AIR  PILOT 

your  feet,  and  exercise  your  limbs  a  little.  Don't 
make  any  noise.     How  are  you?  all  right?" 

"Only  a  little  stiff,  Monsieur,  and  my  head 
hurts  where  I  was  clubbed.  I  don't  remember 
what  happened  after  that  blow,  until  I  woke  up 
in  here." 

"Do  you  know  how  many  attacked  you?" 

"There  were  four,  Monsieur — one  big  fellow 
who  spoke  in  German,  but  did  not  touch  me ;  he 
just  gave  orders.  One  man  had  a  cap  on  like  a 
chauffeur,  a  leather  cap ;  he  was  short,  but  strong 
like  a  bull;  he  had  my  throat  like  this,  Monsieur, 
and  it  hurt  me  to  breathe;  and  the  man  who  hit 
me  was  the  guard — I  knew  his  face." 

"There  was  a  light  then?" 

"Always ;  it  burn  all  night  long." 

"I  could  see  none  from  outside  when  I  came 
up.    Have  those  men  gone?" 

"No,  Monsieur;  I  heard  voices  just  before  you 
came — in  there,  not  far  from  the  door.  Maybe 
they  put  out  the  light,  so  it  will  not  be  seen. 
The  big  man  he  carry  an  electric  bulb — perhaps 
they  use  that.  You  know  them,  Monsieur? 
You  know  why  they  come  here?" 

"Do  I,  De  Vigne!     They  have  led  me  a  merry 


AT  THE  HANGAR  239 

chase  since  yesterday,  but  we  have  broken  even 
so  far.  The  big  man  is  named  Brandt,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  German  Secret  Service." 

"Captain  Brandt,  Monsieur?" 

"You  have  heard  of  him  then?  Yes,  that 's 
the  fellow;  the  others  are  fellows  in  his  pay. 
You  can  guess  what  they  are  after." 

"The  monoplane;  the  secret  of  the  engine, 
Monsieur.     Sacre,  yes !" 

"And  that  they  are  in  earnest  about  it — even 
to  murder." 

"You  mean  they  kill?" 

"I  mean  they  have  killed.  Ramon  is  dead;  I 
saw  his  body." 

"Mon  Dieu!    Why  they  not  kill  me?" 

"Probably  they  did  not  intend  killing  him. 
He  was  tied  as  you  were,  but  was  drunk,  and 
may  have  suffocated.  These  men  know  he  is 
dead,  however,  and  realize  the  desperate  situa- 
tion they  are  in.  They  will  not  hesitate  now  at 
any  crime  to  attain  their  purpose  and  escape. 
They  even  sought  to  have  me  arrested  for  the 
murder." 

"You,  Monsieur?" 

"Yes ;  I  want  you  to  understand  the  exact  sit- 


240  THE  AIR  PILOT 

uation.  I  am  here  fleeing  from  the  police,  un- 
der charges  concocted  by  Brandt  to  save  himself. 
He  believes  I  am  hidden  somewhere,  waiting  a 
chance  to  get  out  of  the  city.  That  is  why  he 
came  here  with  his  gang,  knowing  you  were 
alone.  It  looked  easy,  for  the  watchman  was  in 
his  pay,  Ramon  dead,  and  I  fleeing  from  the 
police.  You  were  all  he  had  left  to  oppose  him. 
Now  he  has  got  you,  lie  will  feel  safe,  and  grow 
careless.  The  fact  that  he  did  not  even  have 
a  man  stationed  outside,  or  left  to  guard  the 
auto,  proves  how  confident  he  is.  He  never 
dreams  that  I  dare  come  here." 

De  Vigne  breathed  heavily,  and  swore. 

"You  would  fight,  Monsieur?'' 

"Yes,  two  against  four;  not  such  bad  odds, 
with  the  surprise  in  our  favor.     You  like  that?" 

"It  will  be  good  sport,"  and  the  soldier  rubbed 
his  hands  together.     "When  we  begin?" 

"Presently;  there  is  a  bit  to  do  first.  Is  the 
monoplane  ready  to  fly?" 

fcOui,  Monsieur." 

"Plenty  of  gasoline?  Provisions  packed 
away?     Oiled  and  tested?" 

"Oui,  Monsieur.     Yesterday  I  saw  to  it  all." 


AT  THE  HANGAR  241 

"And  the  ground  in  front — is  it  level  and 
smooth?    Have  you  been  over  it?" 

"It  is  as  a  board,  Monsieur,  maybe  four  hun- 
dred feet — yes,"  with  enthusiasm.  "They  play 
ze  game  baseball  here,  and  it  all  hard  like  rock. 
The  wheels  run  fine." 

"Good  enough.  That  was  the  way  I  recalled 
it.  Now  listen.  We  have  n't  got  much  time 
before  daylight.  As  soon  as  we  locate,  those 
fellows  we  will  go  for  them  swift  and  hard. 
Have  you  a  revolver?" 

"There  is  one  in  the  drawer  behind  you,  Mon- 


sieur." 


"Put  it  in  your  pocket;  I  have  one  of  my 
own.  Now  remember  this — there  is  to  be  no 
killing,  no  shooting,  if  it  can  be  possibly  avoided. 
The  more  quietly  we  can  accomplish  this  business 
the  better.  What  I  want  to  do  is  to  drive  the 
whole  four  back  into  that  southwest  corner,  and 
make  them  prisoners.    You  get  the  idea?" 

"Oui,  Monsieur." 

"If  we  get  between  them  and  the  front,  there 
is  no  way  for  them  to  get  out,  unless  they  rush 
us.  They  are  probably  armed,  but  if  we  get 
the  drop  on  them  first,  I  do  not  think  they  will 


242  THE  AIR  PILOT 

fight.  Brandt  is  the  dangerous  one — you  leave 
him  to  me,  and  keep  your  gun  on  the  others. 
Beyond  that,  obey  orders." 

He  stood  very  straight  in  the  dark,  and  his 
hand  came  up  in  salute. 

ceOui,  Monsieur." 

"As  soon  as  they  are  secured  we  will  run  out 
the  machine;  if  we  cannot  do  it  ourselves,  we 
will  compel  that  Pinkerton  man  to  help." 

"You  will  fly?  now,  in  the  dark?" 

"Yes;  it  is  the  only  way  I  can  prevent  being 
arrested,  as  the  police  watch  all  railway  sta- 
tions; and  if  I  take  the  machine  away  Brandt 
cannot  study  its  mechanism." 

"And  I  go  with  you?" 

"No,  De  Vigne,  I  have  a  passenger.  You  re- 
main here;  release  the  prisoners  as  soon  as  it  is 
daylight.  Then  go  direct  to  the  French  Consul, 
and  make  a  report.  He  will  tell  you  what  to 
do." 

He  stood  silent,  shaking  his  head,  clearly  dis- 
satisfied. 

"You  are  a  soldier?" 

"Oui,  Monsieur." 

"Then  do  as  I  say.     I  cannot  take  you;  there 


AT  THE  HANGAR  243 

is  a  lady  here  who  will  make  the  trip  with  me."1 

"A  lady,  Monsieur!"  the  surprise  in  his  voice 
making  me  smile. 

"Exactly;  she  is  outside  now,  and  I  am  going 
to  bring  her  in  here.  Do  not  forget  again,  De 
Vigne,  that  you  are  under  my  orders." 

rcNon}  Monsieur." 

"Very  good;  now  stand  where  you  are  until 
I  come  back." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  FIGHT  IN   THE  DARK 

I  FOUND  her  without  difficulty,  and  has- 
tily whispered  into  her  ear  the  story  of  my; 
meeting  with  De  Vigne.  In  response  she 
said  there  were  men  in  the  big  shed;  she  had 
seen  gleams  of  light  showing  through  the  crack 
of  the  big  door,  and  had  even  crept  up  close 
enough  to  hear  movement  within.  Once  the 
muffled  sound  of  a  voice  reached  her  ears,  and, 
although  it  was  impossible  to  distinguish  words, 
she  was  convinced  the  language  employed  was 
German. 

"You  have  seen  no  one  outside?"  I  asked,  "no 
sign  of  any  guard?" 

"No;  I  have  told  you  all.  Is  it  not  strange 
they  should  be  so  reckless?" 

"Brandt  believes  I  am  frightened  away  by  the 
police.  He  thinks  my  only  present  purpose  is 
to  escape  arrest,  and  it  has  never  occurred  to 
him  that  I  might  utilize  the  monoplane.     He  is 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  DARK    245 

not  an  aeronaut,  and  will  not  understand  the  pos- 
sibility. I  am  the  only  person  they  have  any 
cause  to  fear  now  that  Ramon  is  dead  and  De 
Vigne  a  prisoner.     Come  with  me  inside." 

She  accompanied  me  without  hesitancy  into 
the  blackness  of  the  shed,  but  I  kept  my  hand 
on  her  arm,  guiding  her  across  until  we  reached 
the  work-bench  at  the  opposite  side.  Dark  as  it 
was  without,  yet  the  open  door  gave  us  a  bit  of 
starlight  to  relieve  the  gloom. 

"Where  are  you,  De  Vigne?"  I  questioned,  in 
a  whisper,  unable  to  distinguish  his  form. 

"Here,  Monsieur,  waiting  your  orders." 

"Your  revolver;  it  is  loaded?" 

"Yes." 

"And  the  door  into  the  hangar;  how  is  it  se- 
cured?" 

"With  a  wooden  latch,  Monsieur;  it  can  be 
opened  without  noise." 

"Very  good;  now,  Mademoiselle,  you  will  re- 
main here,  in  this  corner,  where  the  work-bench 
will  protect  you  until  I  come  back.  You  will 
obey?" 

"Surely  yes,"  she  answered.  "I  have  prom- 
ised." 


246  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"I  know,  and  trust  you.  There  may  be  a 
fight,  but  we  shall  have  the  advantage.  All  I 
ask  is,  do  not  expose  yourself." 

"But,  Monsieur,  what  about  yourself?  Think 
what  it  would  mean  to  me  if  you  were  hurt-— who 
can  tell  how  badly." 

"I  will  be  as  careful  as  I  can,"  I  answered 
stoutly,  "but  this  is  a  risk  not  to  be  avoided.  I 
only  wish  you  were  not  concerned  in  it." 

"And  I  am  glad  I  am.  There  must  be  a 
strain  of  wild  blood  in  me,  Monsieur,  to  rejoice 
at  adventure.     I  even  wish  I  could  go  with  you." 

"Yet  you  will  not  attempt  such  a  mad  freak? 
You  will  remain  here?" 

"I  will  keep  my  promise;  you  may  trust  me." 

She  was  at  the  end  of  the  bench,  a  mere  black 
shadow,  although  our  forms  touched.  As  she 
whispered  these  words  I  could  feel  her  breath 
on  my  cheek.  My  veins  throbbed  with  a  wild 
rush  of  blood,  and,  before  I  realized  what  I  was 
doing,  I  had  her  in  my  arms,  and  found  her  lips 
with  my  own.  An  instant,  helpless  from  sur- 
prise, she  remained  inert,  then  freed  herself, 
pressing  me  back. 

"Monsieur!"    indignantly.     "What    right — " 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  DARK    247 

"None;  I  implore  pardon.  The  temptation 
was  too  much.     You  will  forgive?" 

"But  you  frighten  me!  You  are  not  fair, 
Monsieur,"  she  protested,  holding  herself  away. 
"I — I  cannot  go  with  you  now !     I — I  will  not." 

"But  I  meant  nothing;  it  was  only  the  impulse 
of  an  instant;  cannot  you  understand?" 

"It  is  because  I  understand  that  I  resolve," 
she  said  firmly.  "Had  you  respected  me  you 
would  not  have  dared.  I  cannot  trust  you,  Mon- 
sieur." 

"You  mean  you  will  not  go?" 

She  hesitated,  and  I  waited,  breathing  hard, 
thoroughly  ashamed  of  myself. 

"Tell  me,  Mademoiselle  ?  It  was  not  what  you 
think — I  love  you!" 

"How  easily  you  say  that;  they  must  be  fa- 
miliar words." 

Her  tone  angered  me,  and  I  grasped  her 
hand. 

"Do  not  laugh,"  I  whispered  swiftly,  "for  I 
am  not  in  that  mood.  I  have  told  you  no  lie, 
paid  you  no  idle  compliment.  Those  words  were 
forced  from  me;  I  spoke  them  in  self-defense. 
Will  you  not  believe  me  to  be  in  earnest?" 


I 


248  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"Oh,  yes!  You  are  in  earnest — now.  It  is 
tomorrow  I  must  consider — the  many  tomor- 
rows. Please  let  me  go,  Monsieur.  I  promise 
to  remain  here." 

"But  not  to  take  the  flight." 

"No;  you  have  broken  your  pledge.' 

"I  thought  you  cared." 

"I  did,  Monsieur;  I  do  still.  I  want  you  to 
get  away  safely,  and  to  keep  your  secret  from 
those  men.  I  led  you  into  all  this  trouble,  and 
will  do  all  in  my  power  to  help  you.  That  is 
all;  you  must  remain  satisfied  with  that.  You 
have  no  right  to  expect  more." 

"Then  my  love  is  nothing  to  you?" 

"It  might  be  everything,  and  yet  not  justify 
my  yielding  to  your  request.  I  am  an  Ameri- 
can, not  a  French  girl,  and  I  have  my  code. 
You  have  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  go  fur- 
ther." 

"Monsieur,"  spoke  De  Vigne  from  the  other 
side,  "they  have  a  light  now;  should  we  not 
hurry?" 

"Yes ;  in  a  minute,"  and  I  turned  back  to  her. 
"I  must  go  now,  but  shall  come  back  here.  Will 
I  find  you?" 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  DARK    249 

"Yes ;  I — I  am  not  indifferent,  not  angry.  It 
^-it  is  all  deeper  than  that.  Only,  please  go 
now,  and  do  not  plead  any  more.  This  is  too 
serious  for  words." 

She  gave  me  both  her  hands,  and  I  lifted  them 
to  my  lips.  Then  she  drew  them  gently  away, 
and  stood  erect.  Someone  struck  a  blow  in  the 
hangar,  and  I  stepped  back  listening.  I  felt  the 
necessity  for  action. 

"The  fight  first,"  I  said  shortly,  "and  then  you, 
my  lady." 

I  felt  my  way  along  the  edge  of  the  bench  to 
the  door.  De  Vigne  stood  there,  his  eyes  at  a 
crack,  through  which  a  narrow  gleam  of  light 
stole,  but  drew  back  at  my  approach.  I  felt  for 
the  wooden  latch,  and  found  it. 

"Ready?" 

"Owi,  Monsieur." 

"Then  do  exactly  as  I  do." 

I  lifted  the  latch  silently,  and  opened  the  door 
just  far  enough  so  as  to  look  into  the  interior. 
The  light  was  a  dim  one  near  the  farther  ex- 
tremity of  the  shed,  obscured  by  the  frame  of 
the  monoplane.  Against  the  faint  radiance  I 
could  trace  the  spreading  wings  of  the  machine, 


250  THE  AIR  PILOT 

and  the  network  of  wires.  Just  beyond  the  pro- 
peller the  men  were  grouped,  one  fellow  holding 
the  electric  lamp,  the  others  crowding  about,  in 
an  endeavor  to  see  what  the  light  revealed.  In- 
tent upon  the  one  thing  sought  all  else  was  for- 
gotten, and  their  voices  rumbled  in  German.  I 
could  not  see  the  face  of  the  fellow  who  held  the 
lamp,  but  Eisenbarth  stood  at  his  right,  holding 
back  a  piece  of  canvas  with  which  the  propeller 
had  been  wrapped,  while  Brandt  had  his  back 
to  us,  and  was  leaning  forward,  one  hand  on  the 
steel  rod.  The  fourth  man  appeared  indistinct 
beneath  the  shadow  of  an  aerofoil  intently  listen- 
ing to  the  conversation. 

Assured  that  their  attention  was  concentrated 
elsewhere,  I  slipped  in  through  the  narrow  open- 
ing, stooping  under  the  wing  wires,  until  I 
found  a  secure  hiding  place  behind  the  rudder. 
De  Vigne  followed  me  like  a  shadow,  without 
making  the  slightest  noise,  and  we  crouched 
down  together  beyond  the  radius  of  light.  Anx- 
ious as  I  was  by  this  time  to  come  to  hand  grips 
with  the  fellows,  before  daylight  could  thwart 
my  plans  of  escape,  I  yet  desired  to  learn  what 
it  really  was  they  were  so  determined  to  dis- 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  DARK    251 

cover,  and  to  be  certain  of  success  before  com- 
mencing attack.  -We  were  two  against  four,  and 
the  first  blow  struck  would  likely  decide  the  bat- 
tle. The  very  knowledge  that  Mademoiselle 
waited  alone  in  the  shed  robbed  me  of  reckless- 
ness, for  I  realized  what  our  defeat  would  neces- 
sarily mean  to  her.  The  secret  of  the  monoplane 
had  become  of  small  value,  now  it  was  being 
tested  against  her  safety.  I  determined  to  pro- 
tect her  at  any  cost.  It  was  Brandt's  voice  I 
distinguished  first  in  a  low,  half-inarticulate 
growl. 

"What  do  you  make  of  it?"  he  asked,  lifting 
his  head.  "Same  propeller  as  in  the  Morane, 
is  n't  it?" 

"Heavier,  that 's  all,"  returned  Eisenbarth 
slowly.  "Only  difference  I  see  is  in  the  motor, 
and  the  ailerons." 

"You  mean  those  things  they  balance  with? 
The  wing  tips?" 

"Sure;  they  look  as  if  they'd  work  all  right, 
but  it 's  the  motor  that  gets  me.  I  'd  have  to 
try  that  out  to  discover  what  it  would  do." 

"Wherein  does  it  differ  from  others?" 

The  chauffeur  moved  back,  motioning  the  man 


252  THE  AIR  PILOT 

with  the  lamp  to  follow,  and  the  four  disappeared 
from  our  direct  view. 

"In  several  ways,  Captain,"  he  said,  at  last, 
evidently  demonstrating.  "This  is  an  improve- 
ment on  the  Gnome  revolving  engine.  It  is 
lighter,  and  fully  as  powerful,  and  is  water- 
cooled.  This  is  a  combination  never  achieved 
before  to  my  knowledge.  I  can  grasp  all  this 
just  as  it  stands,  for  the  mechanics  are  simple 
enough,  but  this  contrivance  in  connection  with 
the  exhaust  is  a  new  invention.  I  should  have 
to  test  its  work  to  learn  its  exact  purpose." 

"But  you  must  have  some  theory?" 

"Well,  yes;  it  is  undoubtedly  intended  as  a 
silencer,  and,  if  it  does  the  business,  will  revolu- 
tionize the  aeroplane  for  use  in  war.  That  is 
just  what  this  machine  has  been  reported  to  do, 
is  n't  it?" 

"Yes;  but  no  one  believed  it  true.  And  you 
say  this  is  the  thing?" 

"It  must  be.  Seems  simple  enough,  but  I 
couldn't  figure  out  just  how  it  works  unless  I 
took  it  apart,  or  else  tried  it  in  action." 

I  saw  Brandt  straighten  up,  and  glance  about 
into  the  darkness. 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  DARK    253 

"Why  not  set  the  engine  going?"  he  asked. 
"It's  all  ready,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  but  there  is  a  risk  that  the  silencer  may 
not  be  properly  adjusted,  and  the  noise  create 
an  alarm." 

"But  there  is  no  one  about  to  hear;  if  there 
were  it  would  only  be  supposed  that  Dessaud's 
mechanics  were  trying  it  out.  Go  on,  and  see 
how  the  thing  works ;  if  it  makes  too  much  racket 
shut  it  off." 

Eisenbarth,  still  wearing  his  long  chauffeur 
gloves,  came  around  behind  the  man  with  the 
lamp,  fumbled  a  moment,  grumbling  to  himself, 
and  then  climbed  up  into  the  operating  seat. 
The  others  drew  back. 

"Here  you,  bring  that  light  this  way,"  he  or- 
dered gruffly.  "It  is  all  done  by  the  feet,  and  I 
can't  see  the  connections." 

The  man  thrust  the  lamp  in  through  the  light 
framework,  the  gleam  concentrated  on  the  foot- 
board, leaving  all  else  shrouded  in  darkness.  I 
could  see  Eisenbarth's  face  as  though  in  a  spot- 
light, as  he  bent  forward  studying  the  mechan- 
ism, before  venturing  to  turn  on  the  power. 
With  my  knowledge  of  the  peculiar  arrange- 


254  THE  AIR  PILOT 

ment  I  had  to  smile  at  his  bewilderment,  yet 
dared  delay  no  longer.  Mechanic  though  he  was 
— an  expert  possibly,  employed  for  this  very  pur- 
pose— yet  he  might  decide  wrong,  and  by  a  sin- 
gle movement  wreck  the  delicate  machinery. 
Too  much  depended  on  all  being  right  for  me 
to  risk  his  handling  of  throttle  and  lever.  I 
gripped  De  Vigne's  arm,  and  we  both  arose  to 
our  feet. 

"Now,"  I  whispered,  "you  take  the  left,  and 
I  will  go  the  other  way.  Leave  the  big  fellow 
to  me,  but  cover  that  man  up  above.  I  don't 
think  there  is  much  fight  in  the  other  two;  you 
understand?" 

"Oui,  Monsieur — I  am  not  to  fire?" 

"Only  as  a  last  resort,  to  save  our  lives.  Some 
of  those  fellows  are  probably  armed.  Don't  let 
them  draw.  Brandt  will  make  the  most  trouble, 
but  I  '11  take  care  of  him." 

"I  do  just  as  you  say." 

"Then  listen;  get  as  near  as  you  can  without 
being  seen;  creep  up  under  the  propeller.  At- 
tack as  soon  as  I  cover  Brandt,  and  not  before. 
Make  that  fellow  climb  down,  and,  if  it  comes 
to  blows,  use  the  butt  of  your  gun.     Drive  them 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  DARK    255 

all  back  into  that  corner.  Don't  forget  to  hit 
first.     Are  you  ready?" 

"Oui,  Monsieur." 

We  separated,  and  stole  forward,  crouching 
in  the  black  shadows,  each  gripping  his  revolver 
with  nervous  fingers.  We  might  fail ;  I  realized 
that,  but  only  as  a  dim  possibility,  for  I  felt  a 
grim  determination  which  assured  me  of  suc- 
cess. The  night's  adventures  had  left  me  on 
edge;  little  by  little  there  had  grown  up  in  my 
heart  a  hatred  for  these  men,  and  a  desire  for 
vengeance.  The  prospect  of  a  fight  was  almost 
joyful;  I  longed  to  strike,  and  hear  the  crunch 
of  the  blow.  The  defense  of  my  machine  was 
no  longer  the  dominant  factor;  nor  even  the  de- 
fense of  the  girl.  The  struggle  had  become  per- 
sonal. Those  fellows  had  hounded  me  for  hours, 
had  beaten  me  cruelly,  and  held  me  captive. 
They  had  been  brutes,  stooping  even  to  murder 
to  accomplish  their  end.  The  same  spirit  had 
come  into  my  own  blood.  I  hoped  they  would 
fight;  I  longed  for  an  excuse  to  do  them  phys- 
ical injury,  to  batter  them,  to  even  kill  if  neces- 
sary. I  experienced  no  sense  of  fear,  only  the 
exhilaration  of  battle,  yet  I  think  my  brain  was 


256  THE  AIR  PILOT 

never  clearer,  or  my  judgment  cooler,  than  in 
that  moment.  I  had  the  advantage  now,  and 
meant  to  hold  it.  I  knew  what  I  desired  to  ac- 
complish, and  how. 

I  approached  Brandt  from  the  rear,  seeing 
his  burly  figure  clearly  outlined  against  the 
light.  Before  he  even  sensed  danger  I  had  my 
fingers  gripped  in  his  collar,  the  barrel  of  my 
revolver  between  his  eyes.  As  he  whirled  about, 
jerked  erect  by  my  arm,  he  caught  sight  of  my 
face  in  the  gleam,  and,  for  an  instant,  stared 
at  me,  dazed  and  inert.  Then  there  flashed  into 
his  eyes  malignant  recognition. 

"You!  Dessaud!  how  did  you  get  here?" 

"We  will  discuss  that  later.  Not  a  movement 
now!     Come;  hands  up,  and  back  away!" 

He  did  as  I  ordered,  mechanically,  forced  by 
the  black  muzzle,  yet  watching  me  like  a  hawk, 
ready  to  spring.  Across  his  shoulder,  but  with- 
out removing  my  eyes  from  him,  I  caught 
glimpses  of  the  others.  Attracted  by  my  at- 
tack on  their  leader  the  three  men,  seeking  to 
discover  the  cause  of  disturbance,  had  been  hope- 
lessly trapped.  De  Vigne,  grinning  pleas- 
antly, held  them  under  two  revolvers — though 


THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  DARK    257 

where  he  got  the  second  weapon  I  never  knew — 
the  deadly  barrels  glinting  in  the  light.  I  saw 
the  chauffeur  drop  to  the  floor,  still  clinging  to 
a  wire  with  one  hand,  the  other  flung  up  as 
though  to  ward  a  blow.  Swigert  leaped  back, 
but  was  held  helpless  against  the  framework  of 
the  machine,  his  face  ghastly  in  the  light;  while 
the  fellow  with  the  lamp  straightened  up,  staring 
with  startled  eyes  at  the  apparition  confronting 
him.  It  was  all  the  revelation  of  an  instant — 
a  swift  flash  of  sight  to  be  retained  by  mem- 
ory, yet  as  quickly  blotted.  Even  as  it  photo- 
graphed itself  upon  the  brain,  the  electric  glow 
vanished,  and  we  were  plunged  into  the  dark. 
There  was  an  oath — gutteral,  German — the  thud 
of  a  blow;  another,  a  French  exclamation  of 
anger,  and  then  Brandt,  suddenly  realizing  his 
opportunity,  swung  me  half  around  in  an  effort 
to  wrench  free.  I  hung  on  desperately,  saved 
from  a  fall  by  contact  with  the  rudder  post,  feel- 
ing him  claw  for  my  throat.  Someone  ran  by 
us  blindly  in  the  darkness,  crashed  into  a  rear 
guy,  and  fell  headlong,  yelping  like  a  dog  as  he 
came  down.  I  ducked  forward,  beneath  the 
groping   hands,    and    struck   Brandt   with   my 


258  THE  AIR  PILOT 

head.  As  he  staggered  back,  with  one  hand 
grabbing  my  hair  in  an  effort  to  save  himself, 
I  struck  with  my  revolver  butt.  The  blind  blow 
reached  him;  I  heard  the  sickening  crunch  of 
it,  and  the  fellow  went  down  as  though  smitten 
by  an  ax,  dragging  me  with  him  by  his  savage 
grip  on  my  hair.  I  fell  partly  across  his  body, 
the  gun  dropping  from  my  fingers  as  I  sought 
to  regain  hold  on  the  man's  throat.  But  he 
never  moved  except  for  a  relaxation  of  the  mus- 
cles, and  I  tore  his  hand  loose  from  its  grasp  on 
my  hair,  and  got  to  my  knees.  Someone  was 
fighting  to  my  left;  I  could  see  nothing,  but 
heard  blows,  cursing,  and  the  incessant  shuffle 
of  feet.  It  sounded  as  though  more  than  two 
were  engaged,  but  there  was  no  voice  I  recog- 
nized. Then  a  body  fell,  plunging  completely 
over  me,  and  I  lit  a  match,  holding  the  tiny  flame 
high  up  so  as  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  scene. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

HOW   THE   FIGHT  ENDED 

THE  flare  lit  up  a  very  small  radius,  yet 
revealed  two  men  locked  tightly  in 
each  other's  arms  beneath  the  fusilage 
frame,  fighting  like  wild  cats,  shaking  the  ma- 
chine above  them  as  their  bodies  struck  the  for- 
ward wheels.  De  Vigne  was  beneath,  his  face 
bleeding  from  what  looked  to  be  an  ugly  cut. 
By  his  cap  I  judged  his  antagonist  to  be  the 
chauffeur.  Swigert  was  the  fellow  who  had 
plunged  over  me,  and  now  lay  motionless,  hav- 
ing cracked  his  head  against  the  after  frame. 
Of  the  fourth  man  I  saw  nothing. 

The  match  flared  into  cinder,  scorching  my 
fingers,  but  I  had  seen  enough.  Stumbling  for- 
ward, recklessly  feeling  my  way  through  the 
dark,  I  gripped  Eisenbarth,  and  dragged  him 
from  off  his  victim,  whirling  the  fellow  ever,  and 
jamming  my  knee  down  into  his  breast. 

"Lie  still,  you  fool!"  I  commanded,  the  words 

259 


260  THE  AIR  PILOT 

panting  from  me.  "Strike  at  me  again,  and 
you  '11  remember  it !  Very  well — take  that 
then !  Now  do  you  know  you  are  whipped?  De 
Vigne." 

"Out,  Monsieur,"  the  response  scarcely  more 
than  a  sob. 

"Are  you  badly  hurt?  Can  you  creep 
around?" 

He  did  not  reply  at  once,  but  I  could  hear 
him  making  the  effort  to  move.  From  the  shak- 
ing of  the  monoplane  I  judged  he  had  grasped 
hold  of  the  frame,  and  was  attempting  by  its  aid 
to  attain  his  feet.  Once  he  swore  as  though  the 
effort  pained  him. 

"Well,  are  you  making  it?" 

"It  was  all  right,  Monsieur,  only  the  head  reel, 
an'  I  feel  sick.  The  fellow  kick  me  in  the  stom- 
ach.    What  you  want  me  to  do?" 

"Find  that  electric  lamp.  It  will  be  lying 
under  the  machine  there  somewhere.  We  must 
have  light  to  clean  up  this  raffle,  and  I  cannot 
desert  our  friend  here." 

He  fumbled  around  for  some  time,  breathing 
heavily,  and  occasionally  giving  vent  to  some 
exclamation. 


HOW  THE  FIGHT  ENDED      261 

"Here  was  a  revolver,  Monsieur." 
"Hold  on  to  it.  You  don't  feel  the  lamp?" 
"Not  yet,  Monsieur,  but  it  must  be  somewhere 
about  here.  It  is  what  I  was  struck  with,  and 
it  fell  down;  maybe  we  kicked  it  farther  away. 
Ah!"  in  sudden  triumph,  "I  have  it  now;  how 
you  work  it,  Monsieur?" 

"By  a  press-button;  feel  along  the  side  with 
your  finger." 

He  was  a  while  finding  it,  yet  finally  suc- 
ceeded, the  thin  wedge  of  light  flashing  directly 
across  the  face  of  the  man  beneath  me,  and  re- 
vealing the  skeleton  frame  of  the  monoplane 
overhead.  The  second  revolver  lay  on  the  floor 
within  easy  reach,  and  I  picked  it  up,  and  arose 
to  my  feet.  Gasping  for  breath,  but  with  all 
desire  to  fight  squeezed  completely  out  of  him, 
Eisenbarth  succeeded  in  lifting  himself  on  one 
elbow,  and  stared  about. 

"Sure  you  have  had  enough?"  I  asked,  jug- 
gling the  pistol  in  my  hand.  He  nodded  sul- 
lenly. 

"Is  that  Brandt  lying  over  there?" 
"Yes;  throw  your  light  more  around  the  han- 
gar, De  Vigne ;  I  want  to  locate  the  whole  gang." 


262  THE  AIR  PILOT 

He  turned  about  slowly,  and  the  bar  of  light 
crept  searchingly  along  the  floor  and  walls. 
Brandt  lay  flat  on  his  back,  his  temples  stained 
with  blood,  his  hands  flung  backward  over  his 
head;  beyond  him,  lying  prone  on  his  face,  rested 
Swigert,  groaning,  and  clutching  at  the  smooth 
rudder.  He  was  probably  only  stunned  by  his 
fall,  but  the  big  German  had  all  the  appearance 
of  a  dead  man.  My  eyes  followed  the  light 
searching  for  the  fourth  scamp — he  was  at  the 
door  leading  into  the  workshop,  still  tugging 
at  the  latch,  but  with  frightened  face  turned  back 
toward  us.  We  had  left  the  door  open;  I  was 
certain  of  that.  Then  the  girl  must  have  closed 
it  after  us,  and  then  held  it  from  the  other  side. 
I  felt  my  blood  leap  in  acknowledgment  of  her 
quick  wit,  and  courage.  Instantly  I  covered  the 
fellow  with  my  revolver. 

"Come  back  here!  Yes,  I  mean  you.  More 
lively;  hold  the  light  so  that  I  can  see  him,  De 
Vigne." 

He  was  a  medium-sized  man,  with  thin, 
freckled  face,  and  red  mustache. 

"What 's  your  name?" 

"Kelly,  sor." 


HOW  THE  FIGHT  ENDED      263 

"Not  a  German,  hey!  Then  how  did  you 
come  to  get  mixed  up  in  this  affair?" 

He  looked  at  me  shame-faced,  and  tried  to  an- 
swer, but  could  only  swallow. 

"Speak  up,  man!  You  are  the  fellow  who 
held  the  light,  ain't  you?" 

"Oi  am,  sor ;  th'  big  fellow  thar'  made  me." 

"Made  you !  by  the  promise  of  a  ten  dollar  bill 
likely.     Come,  spit  out  the  truth." 

"He  's  the  watchman,  Monsieur,"  broke  in  De 
Vigne.  "The  same  who  hit  me  with  the  lamp," 
feeling  his  head  tenderly.  "The  bloody  pirate; 
nobody  ever  made  him  do  it." 

"I  am  of  the  same  opinion.  Is  there  any  rope 
around  here,  De  Vigne?" 

"Plenty  in  the  workroom." 

"Go  and  get  it ;  give  me  the  lamp.  Now  you 
two  stay  just  where  you  are.  Wait  a  minute,  De 
Vigne;  go  through  these  fellows'  pockets  first." 

He  did  the  work  expeditiously,  but  the  only 
weapon  found  was  a  knife  on  Eisenbarth,  which 
I  flung  into  one  corner.  The  Irishman  wore  a 
belt  with  a  sheath,  but  his  revolver  had  disap- 
peared, probably  dropped  when  he  fell  in  his 
wild  effort  at  escape.     I  flashed  the  light  about 


264  THE  AIR  PILOT 

over  the  floor  in  a  circle,  but  failed  to  perceive 
any  sign  of  it.  On  a  lapel  of  the  man's  vest  was 
a  detective's  shield;  De  Vigne  jerked  it  off,  and 
stamped  it  with  his  heel. 

"And  I  'd  like  to  do  the  same  with  you,"  he 
growled,  shaking  a  fist  in  the  fellow's  face,  "you 
Irish  blackguard." 

"Never  mind  that  now,"  I  broke  in  hastily. 
"Get  the  rope." 

He  came  back  with  it,  and  Mademoiselle  fol- 
lowed, picking  her  way  cautiously  through  the 
maze,  guided  by  the  light.  She  appeared  almost 
like  a  ghost  in  her  gray  dress,  the  gleam  illu- 
mining her  face  as  she  advanced  toward  me  be- 
neath the  spreading  wings.  Beside  Brandt's 
body  she  stopped  suddenly  in  horror,  staring 
down  at  the  ghastly  upturned  face. 

"Is — is  he  dead,  Monsieur?" 

"I  hope  not,  but  have  n't  had  time  yet  to  find 
out.  I  struck  him  in  the  dark  with  a  revolver 
butt,  and  he  has  n't  moved  since.  It  was  either 
he  or  I,  you  know." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  my  face. 

"Yes,  I  know;  I  could  hear  the  struggle.  I 
did  not  mean  to  blame  you,  but — but  I  hope  you 


HOW  THE  FIGHT  ENDED      265 

haven't  killed  him;  that  would  be  terrible  for 
all  of  us.     You  were  not  hurt?" 

"Oh,  no,"  essaying  a  laugh,  "my  luck  held, 
and  I  am  fit  to  play  out  the  game.  Yes,  tie  the 
three,  De  Vigne,  and  do  a  good  job.  Begin  with 
Eisenbarth  here ;  he  's  the  biggest  villain.  Swi- 
gert  yonder  is  getting  up.  Better  remain  where 
you  are,  my  man — yes,  I  mean  you.  Never 
mind  talking  about  it ;  we  know  the  whole  story. 
Now,  Miss  Probyn — " 

I  turned  toward  her,  but  she  was  already 
kneeling  beside  Brandt,  holding  one  of  his 
wrists  in  her  hand.  I  stepped  over  beside  them, 
but  kept  the  light  of  the  lamp  turned  on  the 
others.     She  glanced  up  quickly. 

"He  is  alive,  Monsieur;  there  is  plenty  of 
pulse,  very  rapid,  and  the  skull  was  not  frac- 
tured I  am  sure." 

"I  am  indeed  thankful  for  that,"  I  assured  her. 
"I  did  not  know  how  hard  I  struck,  it  all  oc- 
curred so  swiftly.  The  fellow,  no  doubt,  de- 
serves to  be  killed,  but  I  feel  no  special  bitter- 
ness toward  him.    'Almost  I  am  grateful." 

"That  is  strange." 

"Not  at  all;  but  for  him  I  should  never  have 


266  THE  AIR  PILOT 

known  you.  That  is  the  part  of  tonight  I  shall 
always  prefer  to  remember." 

"Your  words  are  foolish,  Monsieur." 

"I  refuse  to  admit  the  charge;  instead  they 
are  quite  rational.  No,  Mademoiselle,  I  will 
not  remain  still.  Once  you  could  control  me, 
but  now  no  longer.  I  read  your  eyes  as  you 
came  in." 

"My  eyes!  in  the  dark?" 

"No,  in  the  light ;  full  in  the  glow  of  this  elec- 
tric lamp.  It  was  because  you  thought  them  ob- 
scured that  I  saw  what  I  saw." 

"I  cannot  imagine,  Monsieur — " 

"Nor  can  you  deny.  I  was  the  one  you 
sought;  I  was  the  one  in  your  thoughts.  You 
looked  at  no  one  else;  cared  nothing  how  the 
others  might  have  fared,  until  you  were  sure  as 
to  me.     Is  that  not  true?" 

"What  more  natural?  The  others  were  either 
unknown,  or  enemies." 

"You  parry  well,  but  I  wield  the  stronger 
blade.  Your  eyes  have  laughed  at,  and  played 
with  me,  all  this  night  long.  Not  until  then  have 
I  seen  into  their  depths,  surprised  their  secret. 
Just  for  that  one  instant  you  forgot,  and  gave 


HOW  THE  FIGHT  ENDED      267 

me  glimpse  of  your  heart.  It  is  now,  Made- 
moiselle, I  hold  you  prisoner." 

She  arose  to  her  feet,  looking  frankly  at  me, 
her  hands  clasped. 

"I  regret  my  eyes  have  unconsciously  played 
me  such  a  trick,  Monsieur,"  she  said  soberly. 
"They  have  been  guilty  of  treachery  before,  so 
you  must  not  presume  upon  them.  But  is  this  a 
time  to  stop  for  such  gallant  speech?  There 
are  already  signs  of  coming  day  in  the  sky,  and 
that  means  hurry.     Haven't  you  much  to  do?" 

"It  will  not  take  long,  unless  those  tinkerers 
have  flung  something  out  of  gear.  And  I  am 
going  to  trust  to  your  eyes,  Mademoiselle — not 
your  words — your  eyes.  Never  mind  what  I 
mean — you  will  learn  all  that  soon  enough.  You 
held  the  door  fast?" 

"Yes;  I  stood  there  trying  to  see,  and  heard 
the  man  running.  I  did  not  know  who  he  was, 
but  thought  you  would  want  him  stopped." 

"The  service  was  well  rendered;  his  escape 
would  have  spoiled  all.  Now  there  is  nothing 
left  to  be  done,  but  get  away.  What  is  it,  De 
Vigne?" 

"I  've  got  the  three  all  right  over  there,"  he 


268  THE  AIR  PILOT 

said,  pointing  toward  a  dark  corner,  but  with 
his  eyes  on  the  girl.  "J  had  to  be  rough  with 
that  chauffeur,  Monsieur;  the  devil  bit  me — 
see,"  and  he  held  up  his  hand  which  was  bleed- 
ing. 

"He  is  a  vicious  cur,  fit  to  be  associated  with 
this  kind  of  a  leader,"  touching  Brandt  with  my 
foot. 

"Shall  I  tie  him,  too?" 

"No;  drag  him  back  out  of  the  way  of  the 
rudder,  and  let  him  lie  there.  He  '11  come  too 
all  right  if  only  let  alone ;  his  kind  don't  die  easy, 
more  the  pity." 

I  stood  aside  as  he  lugged  Brandt's  heavy 
body  out  of  the  way,  holding  the  lamp  aloft. 
She  remained  close  beside  me,  but  without 
speaking,  until  De  Vigne  came  back.  I  could 
see  the  contour  of  her  face,  clear  cut  as  a  cameo 
in  the  bright  gleam,  but  her  eyes  were  averted. 
The  silhouette  fascinated  me,  yet  I  was  aroused 
now  to  the  swift  passage  of  time,  and  the  very 
moment  De  Vigne  dropped  his  burden,  I  flashed 
the  light  about  upon  the  monoplane,  anxious  to 
learn  its  condition.  My  own  resolve  was  made, 
but  I  must  be  certain  we  would  run  no  unneces- 


HOW  THE  FIGHT  ENDED      269 

sary  risk.  The  mechanic  joined  me,  one  hand 
grasping  the  frame. 

"Did  those  fellows  work  any  injury  tinkering 
around?" 

"Not  unless  they  loosened  something  about 
the  motor,  Monsieur.  The  chauffeur  had  a 
small  monkey  wrench  in  his  hand,  but  I  don't 
think  he  found  any  chance  to  use  it.  Let  me 
have  the  light,  and  I  '11  see." 

He  was  scarcely  three  minutes  at  it,  for  he 
knew  every  bolt  and  brace;  then  he  took  hasty 
survey  of  radiator,  and  propeller,  flashing  the 
sharp  ray  of  light  into  each  intricate  part,  and 
testing  them  with  trained  fingers.  I  watched 
his  face  anxiously,  pleased  to  see  it  lit  up  with  a 
smile,  as  he  finally  stepped  back  fully  satisfied 
with  his  scrutiny. 

"Fine  as  a  watch,  Monsieur,"  he  reported 
proudly. 

"Ready  for  flight  at  this  minute?" 

"Everything — yes,"  and  he  gesticulated  with 
both  hands.  "Those  were  your  orders  yester- 
day, Monsieur.  You  were  to  try  it  this  morn- 
ing if  the  weather  was  by  chance  clear.  So  it 
was  I  looked  over  the  machinery,  while  Ramon 


270  THE  AIR  PILOT 

saw  to  the  supplies.  It  is  well,  perfect;  I  took 
great  care." 

"Gasoline,  oil,  tool  hamper,  water,  food?" 

I  ran  over  the  various  items  swiftly,  in  spite 
of  his  former  assurances. 

"Oui,  Monsieur." 

"And  you  tested  the  gear  carefully?  the  levers, 
chains  and  wires?" 

"All,  Monsieur;  twice  yesterday,  and  again 
last  night  when  I  oiled." 

"Can  you  start  the  machine  off  alone?" 

"You  mean  run  it  out?  I  do  not  know,  Mon- 
sieur, for  I  have  never  tried.  Perhaps  I  could 
for  I  am  sure  there  are  no  depressions  in  the 
ground  even  as  I  said,  and  the  vacant  space  is 
perhaps  four  hundred  feet." 

"But  we  cannot  run  any  chances  and  shall 
have  to  use  one  of  our  prisoners  to  help  you; 
release  the  Pinkerton  man,  he  is  the  safer,  and 
bring  him  here." 

He  disappeared,  returning  scarcely  a  moment 
later,  gripping  the  fellow  firmly  by  the  collar, 
and  thrusting  him  forward  into  the  light  of  the 
lamp. 

"Kelly,"  I  said  sternly,  "pay  strict  attention 


HOW  THE  FIGHT  ENDED      271 

to  what  I  say.  You  don't  care  anything  for 
this  gang  of  outlaws.  You  're  with  them  be- 
cause you  thought  you  saw  a  chance  for  a  little 
easy  money.     That 's  the  truth,  is  n't  it?" 

He  grinned,  yet  not  altogether  with  good  hu- 
mor, but  held  silent. 

"I  thought  so.  Now  my  money  is  just  as  good 
as  theirs.  This  night's  work  is  going  to  cost 
you  your  job  likely,  and  a  little  additional  cash, 
together  with  a  chance  to  get  away  safely,  is 
worth  considering." 

"It  was,  sor." 

"Sensible  decision,  Kelly.  You  are  going  to 
help  run  this  machine  out  of  the  hangar,  and 
give  it  a  start  for  flying.  De  Vigne  here  will  tell 
you  exactly  what  to  do,  and  he  '11  put  a  bullet 
in  you  if  you  don't  do  it.  If  you  play  fair  he  '11 
give  you  this  roll  of  bills,  and  turn  you  loose  as 
soon  as  we  are  off.     Do  you  agree  to  this?" 

"Wid  all  me  heart,  sor." 

De  Vigne  thrust  the  roll  displayed  into  his 
own  pocket,  taking  care  to  flourish  a  revolver 
as  he  did  so,  and  the  eyes  of  the  Irishman  blinked 
in  the  light  as  I  watched  him  narrowly.  He 
was  a  treacherous  scoundrel,  but  he  could  not 


272  THE  AIR  PILOT 

afford  to  play  us  false.  However  it  might  be 
well  to  make  him  realize  what  his  chances  were. 
I  laid  a  hand  on  De  Vigne's  shoulder. 

"Now,  Kelly,  mark  my  words.  This  is  a  case 
of  either  life  or  death  with  you.  This  man  here 
is  a  soldier,  under  my  orders.  He  will  do  ex- 
actly as  I  tell  him.  If  you  try  to  run,  or  show 
any  sign  of  treachery,  he  '11  shoot  you  down  as 
he  would  a  dog.     You  understand  that?" 

The  man's  shifting  eyes  were  upon  the  girl, 
but  in  the  silence,  they  left  her  face  and  sought 
mine. 

"Oi  do  sor;  sure  an'  Oi'm  no  crazy  fool. 
Whut  fer  would  oi'  be  tryin'  ter  skip  out?"  He 
spat  on  the  ground  contemptuously.  "Ter  hell 
wid  the  Dutch." 

I  could  not  but  notice  the  expression  of  disgust 
on  Miss  Probyn's  face. 

"Then  we  are  ready.  De  Vigne,  bring  the 
coats  and  caps  here — my  own,  and  the  suit  for  the 
lady." 

"Oui,  Monsieur." 

"But,"  she  gasped,  stepping  forward  and 
clasping  my  arm.  "You  forget!  I — I  said  I 
would  not — " 


HOW  THE  FIGHT  ENDED      273 

"And  did  you  ever  suppose  I  would  abide  by 
that  decision?"  I  interrupted,  meeting  her  gaze 
fairly.  "That  I  would  leave  you  here,  and  de- 
part alone?  Do  you  not  know  me  better  than 
that?" 

"I  fear  I  do  not  know  you  at  all.  Do  you 
actually  mean  you  will  force  me  to  go?" 

"No,  Mademoiselle;  only  to  make  a  choice. 
We  either  both  go,  or  we  both  stay;  the  decision 
is  entirely  your  own.  Here  is  De  Vigne  now, 
with  the  suits.  Will  you  accept  yours?"  and  I 
held  the  garment  out  toward  her. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence,  her  eyes  rest- 
ing on  mine,  her  breath  coming  quickly.  I 
know  there  was  both  firmness  and  pleading  in 
my  face,  but  what  else  it  may  have  also  revealed 
to  her  questioning  gaze  I  cannot  tell.  It  seemed 
to  me  a  long  while  before  she  moved,  as  though 
my  heart  had  actually  stopped  beating  in  fear 
of  her  decision.  Then  her  eyes  sank,  shaded  by 
long  lashes,  and  she  held  out  her  hands. 


CHAPTER  XX 


"on  upward  wings' 


WITHOUT  a  word,  but  with  pulse 
throbbing  madly,  I  helped  her  don 
the  long  coat,  and  fastened  it  se- 
curely about  the  neck.  She  endeavored  to  but- 
ton the  lower  flap,  but  her  trembling  fingers 
made  of  it  quite  a  task. 

"You  are  surely  not  afraid,"  I  whispered,  aid- 
ing her.     "I  cannot  believe  that." 

"No,  not  of  the  flight,"  and  she  glanced  at 
me  reproachfully.  "I — I  am  nervous,  that  is 
all;  I — I  thought  I  could  refuse  you,  but — but 
I  cannot.     You  are  forcing  me  to  do  wrong." 

Perhaps  I  was  too  happy  over  my  victory;  at 
least  I  felt  no  inclination  toward  mercy,  for 
down  in  my  heart  I  believed  she  was  glad  at 
my  insistence,  and  that  I  was  fully  justified. 

"You  are  going  to  learn  better,  Made- 
moiselle," I  said  gravely,  and  drew  the  cap 
down  over  her  hair,  fastening  it  firmly.     "I  have 

274 


"ON  UPWARD  WINGS"  275 

no  thought  now  but  for  your  welfare.  Trust 
me,  and  give  me  your  hand  in  evidence." 

She  permitted  me  to  take  it  in  my  own,  but 
there  was  no  responsive  clasp.  At  last  she 
looked  up. 

"I  do  trust  you;  I  must,  and — and  I  believe 
you  think  this  is  right.  But  let  us  not  talk  about 
it  any  longer!  I  have  consented;  I  am  going 
just  as  you  wish.  Please  do  not  argue  any 
more." 

Realizing  what  she  meant,  and  fearing  lest 
her  resolution  might  give  way  under  further 
strain,  I  guided  her  back  to  the  skeleton  body  of 
the  machine. 

"Throw  your  light  here,  De  Vigne,  so  the  lady 
can  see,"  I  ordered.  "Now,  Mademoiselle, 
place  your  foot  on  this  cross-piece;  now  on  the 
other.  Yes,  that  is  right,  you  can  support  your- 
self with  the  guy-wire.  This  is  the  hardest  part 
— getting  on  board.  There  is  only  one  step 
more;  take  the  seat  to  the  left;  now  you  are  all 
right.  Wrap  your  coat  tightly  about  your 
knees,  and  press  the  edge  down  under  your  feet 
so  the  wind  cannot  get  underneath;  the  air  will 
be  chill  outside." 


276  THE  AIR  PILOT 

I  struggled  into  my  own  coat,  and  pulled  on 
my  gloves,  looking  up  to  where  she  was  perched, 
her  face  plainly  visible  in  the  light. 

"You  are  comfortable?"  I  asked,  feeling  my 
voice  would  encourage. 

"Yes,  but  are  you  not  coming?" 

"In  a  moment;  there  are  a  few  things  to  be 
attended  to  below  first.  You  better  put  on  your 
gloves;  they  are  in  the  coat  pocket.  Now,  De 
Vigne,  douse  that  light,  and  we  '11  throw  open  the 
doors.     Kelly,  take  hold  here." 

They  were  heavy  enough  to  require  the 
strength  of  all  three  of  us  to  roll  them  back,  yet 
made  little  noise.  The  cool  night  air  poured  in 
through  the  wide  opening,  and  there  was  a  dull 
gray  haze  visible  along  the  eastern  sky,  the  first 
faint  glimmer  of  approaching  dawn.  The  stars 
were  paling,  and  there  was  already  sufficient  re- 
flection of  light  so  as  to  reveal  a  row  of  houses 
between  us  and  the  horizon,  although  the  wide 
field'  in  our  front  remained  dark  with  shadow. 
I  endeavored  to  study  the  surface,  but  could  see 
clearly  only  for  a  few  feet,  yet  the  depth  of 
open  space  was  amply  sufficient,  and  the  land 
appeared  level,   and   reasonably   smooth.     But 


"ON  UPWARD  WINGS"  277 

for  my  passenger  I  should  have  felt  no  restraint, 
but  with  her  still  in  mind,  I  walked  forward  a 
hundred  feet,  perhaps,  testing  the  ground  for 
possible  pitfalls,  and  returned  satisfied.  The 
two  men  lingered  at  the  door,  De  Vigne  testing 
the  propeller. 

"Now,  boys,  get  in  here,  and  roll  her  out. 
Take  hold  of  the  frame  opposite  me,  Kelly. 
Carefully  now,  so  as  not  to  jar  things  going  over 
the  sill.  Hold  tight  to  both  arms  of  your  seat, 
Mademoiselle;  now  all  together — easy  there!  a 
little  more  to  the  right,  De  Vigne.  She  clears; 
that  is  enough." 

We  were  safely  outside,  the  sky  above  dark 
but  clearing,  the  pale  stars  still  gleaming  fit- 
fully, the  only  sound  recognizable  the  rattle  of  a 
far-off  street  car.  Behind  us  was  the  black 
shadow  of  the  hangar,  its  wide  door  yawning, 
and  the  monoplane,  with  fight  framework,  deli- 
cate tracery  of  wires,  and  wide-spread  wings 
resting  there  on  spindle  wheels,  in  that  spectral 
light,  appeared  phantom-like  and  unreal.  I  laid 
hand  on  it  almost  dreaming,  as  I  gazed  up  at 
the  girl's  indistinct  form  perched  in  the  seat 
above.     I  could  not  see  her  face,  yet  knew  she 


278  THE  AIR  PILOT 

would  be  staring  down  at  us  in  anxious  fear  lest 
something  occur  to  send  her  away  alone. 

"So  far  so  good,"  I  said  cheerily,  to  hearten 
her.  "Now,  Kelly,  you  do  exactly  as  De  Vigne 
says — nothing  more,  or  less.  You  understand 
what  you  are  to  do  afterward,  De  Vigne." 

"Oui,  Monsieur." 

"There  is  to  be  no  talking,  only  to  the  con- 
sul." 

"Oui,  Monsieur." 

I  shook  hands  with  him,  and  climbed  up 
through  the  light  framework  to  my  seat  at  the 
right,  fastening  the  strap  across  my  body,  and 
then  leaning  over  and  securely  buckling  hers. 
De  Vigne  was  already  at  the  propeller  prepared 
to  set  its  blades  in  motion,  and  I  took  time  to 
touch  her  gloved  hand  with  my  own,  observant 
to  the  whiteness  of  her  face  beneath  the  shade 
of  the  cap  visor. 

"Do — do  you  always  strap  yourself  in  like 
this?"  she  asked.     "Is  there  danger  of  falling?" 

"There  are  'pockets'  in  the  air,"  I  explained, 
"and  occasionally  the  drop  is  considerable.  It  is 
safer,  that  is  all,  and  permits  freer  use  of  the 
hands.     You  will  not  mind  at  all  after  we  once 


"ON  UPWARD  WINGS"  279 

get  away  from  the  earth.  This  is  the  greatest 
sport  in  the  world ;  you  are  going  to  like  it." 

Whatever  she  answered. was  lost  in  the  sudden 
whirl  of  the  propeller,  and  then  I  heard  De 
Vigne's  voice: 

"Ready,  Monsieur?" 

I  straightened  up,  my  feet  firm  on  the  levers, 
hands  gripping  the  wheel,  every  nerve  tense,  my 
eyes  on  the  dim  glow  of  light  ahead.  This  was 
the  real  test,  the  next  few  moments,  and  I  must 
be  alert,  prepared  to  meet  any  emergency. 
After  we  once  took  the  air,  and  had  safely  cleared 
that  row  of  houses,  I  could  afford  to  think  of 
other  things,  but  not  now. 

"Yes,  all  right — let  her  go!" 

I  felt  the  swift  leap  of  the  delicate  framework 
under  us;  the  throb  of  the  motor,  silent,  but  no 
less  powerful,  thrilling  through  the  taut  wires; 
the  jar  of  the  rubber-tired  wheels  as  they 
gripped  the  earth.  I  heard  De  Vigne  shouting 
orders  to  his  companion,  the  increasing  hum  of 
the  more  rapidly  revolving  propeller  blade;  the 
slight  creaking  of  the  wings.  Then  we  seemed 
to  leap  from  off  the  ground,  careening  slightly, 
but  as  instantly  straightening  as  I  touched  the 


280  THE  AIR  PILOT 

controlling  lever,  and  headed  away  into  the  gray 
east.  I  was  cool  enough  now,  while  feeling  all 
the  exhilaration  of  the  moment.  The  dark 
earth  shadow  slipped  away  beneath,  seeming 
rather  to  fall  from  us ;  there  was  no  sensation  of 
flight,  except  for  the  rush  of  cold  air  against 
our  faces,  or  a  swift  leap  of  the  blood,  when  the 
machine  swerved  slightly  as  it  mounted  steadily 
higher.  One  of  the  men  below  cried  out  some- 
thing, but  the  words  were  indistinguishable; 
looking  down  I  could  perceive  nothing  except 
black  shadows,  distorted  and  grotesque.  The 
whirl  of  the  propeller  became  less  noticeable,  and 
the  motor  worked  almost  noiselessly,  emitting 
just  enough  sound  to  assure  me  it  was  in  power- 
ful action.  We  cleared  the  row  of  houses  by  a 
hundred  feet,  ever  mounting  higher  into  the 
gloomy,  gray  sky.  In  front  of  us  now,  a 
grim,  magnificent  picture  in  the  wan  light  of 
the  early  dawn,  spread  the  waters  of  the  lake. 
I  could  perceive  bursts  of  white  where  waves 
dashed  against  the  breakwater,  and  beyond  a 
gray  shimmer,  disappearing  into  mist.  Below, 
on  land,  it  was  yet  night,  and  the  myriads  of 
street    lamps    blazed    gorgeously    through    the 


"ON  UPWARD  WINGS"  281 

gloom,  marking  the  vast  extent  of  the  city.  Far 
away  to  the  left  the  lighthouse  on  a  distant  pier 
shot  forth  rays  of  alternating  white  and  red 
into  the  enveloping  haze.  It  was  a  fairy  pic- 
ture of  neither  night  nor  day,  full  of  spectral 
shadows,  and  the  gleam  of  strange  lights,  blend- 
ing into  the  ghastly  gray  of  the  dawning,  with 
the  somber  waters  dashing  against  the  shore,  and 
the  earth  a  shapeless  gloom,  yet  aglow  with  color. 
Just  beneath  us  an  engine  passed,  a  burst  of  red 
flame  showing  through  the  open  furnace  door, 
painting  a  weird  picture  on  the  black  screen  for 
an  instant,  and  as  quickly  blotted.  Noises  un- 
recognizable, rose  to  us  out  of  the  dark  void, 
blending  into  a  dull  roar,  which  grew  fainter  as 
we  swept  onward,  out  over  the  silent  water. 

From  the  height  we  had  now  attained  we  could 
perceive  a  faint  tinge  of  red  far  to  the  eastward, 
with  purple  streamers  piercing  the  low-hanging 
mist  which  still  obscured  the  horizon.  Beneath 
this  upper  light  the  fog  floated,  a  dun-colored 
cloud,  its  higher  undulating  waves  violet  tinted, 
and  assuming  fanciful  shapes.  With  careful 
pressure  I  brought  the  monoplane  to  a  straight 
course,  and  took  a  long,  sweeping  turn  toward 


282  THE  AIR  PILOT 

the  left,  gradually  opening  the  engine  throttle. 
The  dim  light  failed  to  reveal  the  figures  of  the 
register,  but  there  was  no  necessity  for  read- 
ing these  to  know  that  we  were  traveling  at  high 
speed.  The  mad  whirl  of  the  propeller,  the 
swift  chug  of  the  almost  noiseless  motor,  the 
sweep  of  wind  lashing  against  our  faces,  and 
singing  through  the  taut  wires,  the  quick  re- 
sponse of  the  delicate  machine  to  the  slightest 
deviation  of  the  rudder,  the  trembling  of  the 
light  framework,  all  combined  to  tell  the  story. 
I  felt  to  the  full  the  deep  exhilaration  of  rapid 
movement,  the  consciousness  of  power.  This 
was  indeed  life,  an  experience  wherein  an  hour 
was  well  worth  a  year  of  ordinary  existence. 
We  swept  swiftly  past  the  great  city,  blazing 
with  lights  along  its  water  front,  still  sleeping 
in  its  night  shadow,  as  though  we  were  a  wild 
bird  breasting  its  way  northward  in  search  of 
solitude.  We  glimpsed  the  curving  line  of 
shore,  the  blacker  outlines  of  piers,  the  dim 
tracery  of  vessels,  still  illumined  by  harbor  lights ; 
watching  them  all  disappear  as  though  some 
mysterious  power  had  swept  them  from  exist- 
ence.    Every  instant,  every  throb  of  the  motor, 


"ON  UPWARD  WINGS"  283 

brought  with  it  a  new  vista,  a  fresh  revelation,  an 
unexpected  marvel.  We  were  on  wing,  buoy- 
ant, free,  sweeping  through  the  gray  sky,  the 
paling  stars  still  visible  in  the  west,  the  sweet 
morning  air  fresh  on  our  faces.  All  that  was 
sordid  and  mean  had  been  left  far  below;  about 
us,  uncharted,  a  vast  expanse,  was  the  clear,  pure 
atmosphere  of  the  heights.  We  were  alone  in 
another  world,  isolated  from  our  race,  and  all 
its  hatred  and  strifes,  the  masters  of  a  new 
realm,  the  bold  navigators  of  a  new  sea. 

Once,  way  down  below,  a  tiny  thing  to  our 
eyes  as  we  swept  breathlessly  past,  a  vessel 
showed  dimly,  steaming  southward,  a  great 
white  passenger  boat,  no  doubt,  heading  for  the 
harbor.  A  glimpse,  and  we  were  gone.  Once 
we  encountered  a  "pocket,"  and  glided  down, 
swift  as  a  falling  arrow,  until  we  saw  the  white- 
caps  cresting  the  waves,  only  to  mount  again, 
like  some  frightened  bird  into  the  higher  levels, 
our  great  wings  swooping  to  the  renewed  pres- 
sure of  air.  Then  I  pointed  our  course  into  the 
northeast,  my  eyes  on  the  compass  screwed  into 
the  arm  of  my  seat.  The  shore  line  disappeared, 
and  we  swept  forward  into  the  increasing  mist, 


284  THE  AIR  PILOT 

now  golden  tinged  all  about  us  by  the  first  pene- 
trating rays  of  the  sun,  but  below  a  dull  gray 
cloud,  hiding  the  distant  waters.  We  were 
alone — alone;  a  mere  atom,  winging  silent  pas- 
sage through  the  sky,  in  a  world  of  our  own. 

For  the  first  time  I  turned  my  head  and  looked 
at  her,  my  heart  throbbing  to  the  sudden  recol- 
lection of  her  presence.  This  was  not  all  new 
to  me;  I  had  felt  the  rare  exhilaration  of  such 
flight  often  before,  but  how  would  the  strange 
experience  appeal  to  her?  Her  silence,  her 
strained  attitude,  the  shapeless  figure,  muffled  in 
the  great  coat,  told  nothing.  I  could  see  the 
contour  of  her  face  beneath  the  cap  shadow,  and 
it  appeared  white  in  the  spectral  glare,  her  eyes 
staring  straight  ahead  into  the  gray  smother. 
I  touched  the  gloved  hand,  where  it  still  grasped 
the  arm  of  the  seat,  and  she  glanced  around 
quickly,  smiling  bravely  as  her  eyes  met  mine. 

"You  are  not  frightened  then,  Mademoiselle," 
I  said,  relieved  instantly  by  their  expression. 
"The  height  does  not  trouble  you?" 

"No,"  she  answered,  shading  her  mouth  with 
one  hand,  so  as  to  speak  freely.  "I — I  do  not 
seem  to  have  had  time;  it  has  been  so  swift,  so 


"ON  UPWARD  WINGS"  285 

unexpected,  so  marvelous.  I  hardly  knew  when 
we  left  the  earth;  there  was  no  sensation  what- 
ever." 

"You  expected  to  be  dizzy?  to  experience  the 
same  feeling  as  when  gazing  down  from  a  great 
height?" 

"Yes,  of  course!  I  could  never  bear  that,  and 
the  very  thought  sickened  me.  But  I  have  not 
felt  so  in  the  least ;  it  has  been  more  like  a  dream 
than  a  reality — only — only  when  we  dropped 
back  there;  then  I  thought  it  was  all  over  with." 

"I  confess  to  having  been  startled  myself  for 
a  second,"  I  replied  frankly,  "for  I  was  afraid 
we  were  not  high  enough.  We  ran  into  a 
'pocket,'  where  the  air  was  too  thin  to  yield  suf- 
ficient support.  This  is  one  of  the  mysteries  of 
the  atmosphere  not  yet  sufficiently  understood 
to  be  guarded  against.  I  am  flying  much  higher 
now." 

"How  high?" 

I  glanced  at  the  gauge. 

"About  fifteen  hundred  feet." 

"And  you  know  where  you  are  going?" 

"Only  vaguely,"  and  I  drew  out  the  map 
drawer  below  my  seat,  showing  her  the  chart  be- 


286  THE  AIR  PILOT 

neath  the  glass.  "This  all  occurred  so  suddenly 
I  had  no  time  to  study  the  matter  out.  You 
must  know  better  than  I  where  we  can  land 
safely.  My  thought  was  the  Michigan  shore; 
about  here,  perhaps,  where  there  seems  to  be 
few  towns,"  and  I  pointed  to  the  spot. 

"Why,  that  would  take  us  entirely  across  the 
lake!"  ' 

"Well,  what  of  it?"  laughingly.  "There  is  no 
more  danger  in  flying  above  water  than  land,  and 
we  are  already  well  on  our  way.  Besides  when 
the  sun  drives  this  mist  aside,  we  are  far  less 
likely  to  be  noticed  by  anyone  below." 

"But  it  seems  more  perilous,"  she  insisted, 
staring  down  into  the  swirling  cloud  with  wide- 
opened  eyes.  "Of  course  it  is  foolish,  but  it 
startles  me  to  know  there  is  nothing  but  water 
down  there.  I  suppose  that  you  feel  differently, 
Monsieur." 

"I  have  crossed  the  channel  from  France  to 
England,"  I  replied  quietly,  "in  a  less  trust- 
worthy machine  by  far ;  with  one  of  my  aerofoils 
mended  by  wire,  and  an  engine  that  skipped  its 
stroke.  Now  everything  is  working  finely;  lis- 
ten to  the  steadiness  of  the  motor,  and  note  how 


"ON  UPWARD  WINGS"  287 

slight  the  jar  of  the  frame — yet  we  are  traveling 
at  high  speed." 

"How  fast,  Monsieur?" 

I  bent  forward  and  deciphered  the  indicator 
with  difficulty,  unwilling  to  guess  at  the  rate. 

"Sixty-three  miles  an  hour;  seventy  is  the  best 
I  have  ever  done  with  this  motor.  It  is  hard  to 
talk,  and  explain  against  this  rush  of  air,  but  we 
must  be  in  midlake  already.  I  think  the  mist  is 
rising,  and  we  shall  soon  be  able  to  see  what  is  be- 
neath. I  hope  so,"  shivering,  "for  I  am  actually 
cold,  and  this  gray,  spectral  light  is  depressing." 

She  did  not  answer,  except  to  draw  her  coat 
tighter,  shrinking  back  into  her  seat.  I  stared 
down  into  the  folds  of  vapor,  trying  to  assure 
myself  they  were  actually  thinning.  All  at  once 
they  seemed  to  roll  aside,  like  two  curtains 
drawn  by  invisible  hands,  and  I  could  see  through 
the  slowly  widening  opening.  The  vista  broad- 
ened, and  I  touched  her  arm  again  eagerly. 

"Look  there!"  I  said.  "Is  n't  that  sight  worth 
the  danger?" 


CHAPTER  XXI 

LOVE  AMONG  THE  CLOUDS 

1  WATCHED  her  bend  forward  and  look 
down,  so  fascinated  by  the  view  thus  sud- 
denly revealed,  .as  to  be  instantly  forgetful 
of  the  great  height  at  which  we  soared.  In  the 
clearer  light  her  cheeks  appeared  flushed,  and 
I  marked  the  firm  grip  of  her  hands  on  the  rail. 
Whatever  of  fear  had  partially  unnerved  her 
during  our  swift  flight  through  the  dark,  had  ap- 
parently vanished  in  the  ecstasy  of  this  supreme 
moment.  She  felt  the  thrill,  the  happiness  of 
air  mastery,  the  delight  of  conquering  space,  of 
looking  down  on  the  little  earth  as  though  she 
dwelt  in  a  higher  realm.  Such  joy  is  not  the 
gift  of  all  mortals — the  weak,  and  craven  of  heart 
can  never  know  it — but  to  this  girl  of  courage 
and  character,  it  belonged  as  an  inheritance.  I 
felt  that  I  knew  her  before;  now  I  rejoiced  in 
the  certainty  of  such  knowledge,  the  words  of 
love  trembling  on  my  lips.  She  glanced  aside 
at  me,  her  eyes  glowing. 

288 


LOVE  AMONG  THE  CLOUDS     289 

"It  is  indeed  glorious,  Monsieur!"  she  managed 
to  exclaim  against  the  rush  of  air.  "It  is  as  if 
God  Himself  was  drawing  aside  those  curtains  of 
fog — see,  away  out  yonder  1" 

I  was  myself  enthralled  by  the  spectacle 
gazing  where  she  pointed  through  the  widening 
rift,  yet  never  forgetful  of  my  duty,  or  of  the 
frail  craft  under  us.  Often  as  I  have  flown 
among  the  clouds  above  the  fair  fields  of  France, 
never  before  did  any  scene  unroll  itself  below 
me  to  equal  that  which  was  now  revealed — so 
variegated,  so  combined  of  beauty  and  grandeur, 
so  gorgeous  in  coloring.  I  could  but  gaze 
silently,  reverently,  my  eyes  wandering  from  ob- 
ject to  object  in  the  ever-changing  panorama, 
hushed  into  speechlessness  by  awe  of  the  sublim- 
ity of  the  vast  scene.  We  were  so  little,  so  in- 
significant, hovering  a  mere  speck  in  the  sky,  high 
above  this  marvelous  transformation,  this  new 
revealment  of  nature.  The  very  conception 
dazed  the  mind,  even  as  it  sent  the  hot  blood 
leaping  through  the  veins. 

How  can  I  reflect  that  picture  to  the  imagina- 
tion of  others?  I  can  see  it  yet,  not  in  detail, 
but  in  stupendous  whole,  yet  words  are  useless, 


290  THE  AIR  PILOT 

colorless,  inane,  as  I  seek  them  in  the  vocabulary 
of  men.  They  do  not  picture,  or  reflect  what  the 
eye  saw.  Below  were  the  misty  clouds  of  early 
morning  drifted  slowly  asunder,  billowing  like 
great  waves  of  smoke  as  they  swept  to  north  and 
south,  while  through  their  fleecy  whiteness  shot 
the  golden  red  rays  of  the  sun.  Through  this 
widening  rent  in  the  curtain  we  gazed  down  onto 
the  restless  waters  of  Lake  Michigan,  blue  and 
green,  except  for  the  creaming  of  crested  waves, 
but  in  the  distance  sparkling  with  myriad  colors 
as  the  morning  light  played  across  their  surface, 
tingeing  it  with  crimson  and  gold,  silver  and  pur- 
ple, melting  away  finally  into  dull  gray.  This 
riot  of  tints  intermingled  in  dazzling  profusion, 
fading  out,  or  brightening  with  every  instant, 
yet  ever  circling  to  a  wider  horizon.  Not  for  a 
moment  did  they  appear  the  same.  Here  and 
there  in  that  wide  expanse  of  sea  were  vessels — 
mere  toy  boats  at  that  distance — some  of  them 
shapeless  blots  on  the  dazzling  surface,  others 
outlined  in  clear  perspective,  with  even  their  ta- 
pering masts  silhouetted  in  the  bright  light,  and 
volumes  of  black  smoke  hanging  in  clouds  above 


LOVE  AMONG  THE  CLOUDS     291 

their  stacks.  To  north  and  south  and  west  all 
was  water,  restless,  heaving,  churned  into  crested 
waves  by  some  wind  of  the  past  night  which  had 
ceased  with  the  dawn.  But  to  the  east  stretched 
a  far-away  shore-line,  a  blotch  of  dark  blue, 
so  dimly  revealed  as  to  be  shapeless;  some- 
thing to  be  imagined  rather  than  seen.  Above 
all  we  flew,  cleaving  the  air  like  some  gigantic 
bird,  our  propeller  whirling  with  steady  insist- 
ence, the  motor  barely  audible  above  the  rush 
of  the  wind,  the  great  rudder  astern  moving 
gently  to  the  pressure  of  my  foot,  and  the  wide- 
spread wings  motionless.  Strapped  securely  to 
our  seats,  awed  by  the  wondrous  spectacle  thus 
outspread  beneath,  all  fear  banished,  we  stared 
down  through  the  silence,  unable  to  find  words 
worthy  of  utterance.  I  recall  clasping  her  un- 
resisting hand  in  mine,  and  saw  the  sudden  ques- 
tioning glance  of  her  eyes  as  she  lifted  her  head 
to  gaze  aside  at  me,  but  neither  spoke.  I  know 
not  how  long  it  was  we  sat  there,  but  slowly  the 
glow  of  light,  with  all  its  kaleidoscopic  colors, 
blended  into  a  yellow  sheen,  as  though  the  sea 
was  gold,  and  the  swift  flight  of  the  monoplane 


292  THE  AIR  PILOT 

had  so  reduced  the  distance  that  my  eyes  could 
detect  the  irregularities  of  the  Michigan  shore, 
could  even  distinguish  the  glint  of  sand,  the  dark 
outline  of  trees  fringing  the  edge  of  the  bluff. 
With  perfect  control  I  "banked"  the  machine  in 
wide  curve,  slowing  the  motor  for  safety,  and 
headed  due  north,  skirting  the  shore  too  far  out 
to  be  easily  seen,  yet  sufficiently  close  so  as  to 
enable  us  to  study  its  formation.  Slightly  ahead 
was  an  indentation,  and  out  jutting  piers,  on  one 
of  which  stood  a  light-house,  dazzling  white. 
Beyond,  under  the  shadow  of  the  bluff,  appeared 
the  belching  smoke  stacks  of  a  city.  Half  con- 
cealed by  the  friendly  folds  of  a  gray  cloud  we 
swept  past,  the  motor  increasing  its  silent  stroke, 
as  I  gave  it  more  power.  Through  the  cloud 
rifts,  as  soon  as  the  monoplane  had  settled  on  its 
new  course,  I  pointed  out  the  distant  town  to  her. 

"What  city  is  it?  Do  you  know,  Monsieur?" 
her  voice  a  silver  thread  of  sound. 

"I  can  only  guess  by  reference  to  the  map  and 
indicator,"  I  replied,  "for  I  know  nothing  of 
these  shores.  I  hoped  you  might  recognize 
something  familiar.  You  have  crossed  the 
lake?" 


LOVE  AMONG  THE  CLOUDS     293 

"Often,  but  it  all  looks  strange  from  up  here." 
She  gazed  earnestly  at  the  swiftly  vanishing  har- 
bor. "It  is  not  Grand  Haven  I  am  sure;  the 
long  pier  and  lighthouse  remind  me  of  Muske- 
gon, and  that  deep  indentation  in  the  coast;  yet 
surely  we  cannot  have  traveled  so  far?" 

"How  far?" 

"More  than  a  hundred  miles  as  I  remember. 
It  may  be  more." 

I  laughed,  with  my  eyes  on  the  speed  indica- 
tor. 

"Then  it  is  not  so  impossible.  You  do  not 
realize  our  speed,  because  there  are  no  motion- 
less objects  along  the  way.  The  sting  of  the 
air  alone  gives  us  the  sense  of  motion,  and  we 
have  been  flying  with  the  wind.  Can  you  see 
the  gauge,  Mademoiselle?  No!  Well  it  regis- 
ters a  trifle  over  sixty  miles,  and  we  have  been  in 
the  air*two  hours,  flying  steadily,  with  scarcely 
a  variation  of  the  compass.  The  only  time  I 
have  been  compelled  to  slow  down  was  when  we 
took  the  dip,  and  were  obliged  to  circle  upward. 
The  delay  then  was  very  brief.  It  would  be  my 
impression  the  town  yonder  was  Muskegon;  at 
least  I  have  determined  to  act  upon  that  belief." 


294  THE  AIR  PILOT 

She  turned  and  faced  me,  sitting  back  in  her 
seat. 

"You  think  of  going  ashore?  of  landing?  Is 
that  it,  Monsieur?" 

"From  my  map  there  is  no  better  place,  or 
one  where  we  are  less  likely  to  be  observed.  See, 
Mademoiselle — here  is  what  you  call  a  county; 
am  I  not  right?  named  Oceana.  There  are 
woods  here  all  along  the  shore,  with  only  a  few 
small  towns  farther  back  on  a  railroad  that  runs 
south  to  Muskegon.  But  there  are  clearings  in 
behind  the  bluffs  where  we  can  come  down  in 
safety.  Who  will  know?  maybe  a  few  farmers. 
They  will  suspect  nothing,  and,  for  a  few  dollars, 
will  help  store  away  the  monoplane." 

"But  they  will  hear;  the  story  will  be  in  the 
papers." 

"No;  why  should  it?  you  are  a  reporter — yes; 
but  no  other  knows,  and  for  that  reason  I  am 
safe." 

"[You  brought  me  along  for  that?  to  stifle  the 
press?" 

"Let  us  imagine  so.  It  is  the  result  I  would 
consider.  We  have  disappeared;  no  one  knows 
how  except  Brandt,  and  those  other  men  we  left 


LOVE  AMONG  THE  CLOUDS     295 

at  the  hangar.  Brandt  dare  not  tell,  and  may 
be  trusted  to  hush  his  men.  Their  only  desire 
will  be  to  keep  out  of  sight  while  the  police  in- 
vestigate the  death  of  Ramon.  Moreover  there 
are  two  great  nations  anxious  to  have  this  affair 
kept  secret — Germany  and  France.  De  Vigne 
will  explain  to  my  Consul,  and  Brandt  will  report 
to  his  Ambassador.  Both,  no  doubt,  know  the 
truth,  already,  and  have  blocked  all  inquiry." 

"But,  Monsieur,  you  forget  Schmitt,  and  the 
police  ?" 

"The  one  dare  not  tell,  and  the  other  possesses 
only  a  suspicion;  with  the  disappearance  of 
Brandt  they  will  have  no  witness.  I  know  how 
these  affairs  are  kept  dark  in  Europe,  Made- 
moiselle, and,  without  doubt  the  same  methods 
are  pursued  here  in  America  when  occasion 
arises.  If  we  had  actually  been  placed  under 
arrest,  the  detention  would  have  been  only  tem- 
porary." 

"The  witnesses  would  have  disappeared?" 

"Yes ;  and  other  means  resorted  to  effectually 
to  hush  the  matter  up.  Brandt  called  in  the 
police  for  two  reasons— to  divert  suspicion  from 
himself,  and  to  get  me  safely  out  of  his  way.     But 


296  THE  AIR  PILOT 

he  is  too  shrewd  a  rascal  to  ever  permit  a  trial 
— to  do  so  would  uncover  the  whole  spy  system 
of  Europe." 

"Then  you  are  not  afraid,  Monsieur?  You 
knew  the  arrest  was  all  a  bluff?  that  you  could 
have  taken  a  train  from  the  city?" 

"I  have  not  said  all  that.  We  had  performed 
acts  which  warranted  our  arrest.  Beyond  doubt 
the  police  were  seeking  us.  Yet,  as  you  say,  I 
was  not  afraid  of  the  final  result.  I  chose  this 
means  of  escape  because  of  you." 
"Of  me !  To  protect  me,  you  mean !" 
"To  save  you  from  the  ignominy  of  arrest." 
"And  by  doing  so  have  placed  me  in  a  far 
more  incriminating  position ;  one  infinitely  harder 
to  explain.  You  did  not  think  of  that,  Mon- 
sieur. You  urged  me  to  come  with  you;  almost 
forced  me  to  do  so.  You  led  me  to  believe  your 
life  was  in  danger  if  you  remained  in  Chicago, 
yet  refused  to  leave  without  me.  You  gave  me 
that  one  choice,  of  coming  with  you,  or  compelling 
you  to  remain.  In  a  moment  of  weakness  I 
yielded ;  I  fled  with  you.  For  your  sake  I  have 
sacrificed  my  reputation,  my  good  name.  And 
now  you  tell  me  coolly,  there  was  no  cause,  no 


LOVE  AMONG  THE  CLOUDS     297 

occasion.     Can  I  have  heard  aright,  Monsieur?" 

She  had  forgotten  where  we  were,  those  hun- 
dreds of  feet  of  air  between  us  and  the  water 
below.  Her  eyes  were  dark  with  indignation; 
her  hands  grasped  my  arm,  and  her  lips  trembled. 
With  pressure  of  my  foot  I  slowed  down  the 
motor,  and  we  floated,  barely  moving,  the  pro- 
peller scarcely  audible. 

"If  I  plead  guilty,"  I  asked  quietly,  "will  you 
take  into  consideration  some  extenuating  circum- 
stances ?" 

"Are  there  any?  Could  anything  excuse  such 
an  act?"  indignantly. 

"That  will  depend  upon  yourself,  Made- 
moiselle. In  my  own  heart  I  am  justified. 
There  is  an  adage  that  all  is  fair  in  love  and  war ; 
then  surely  the  two  combined  excuse  unusual 
methods.  However  I  am  willing  to  rest  my  case 
on  the  first — love  I" 

She  drew  back  from  me  scornfully,  but  with 
no  lowering  of  her  eyes. 

"Love!  Are  you  sure  you  do  not  profane  the 
word?  Is  compromising  a  girl  your  idea  of 
love?  You  think  they  will  not  learn  the  truth 
back  there  in  Chicago?  that  my  friends  will  not 


298  THE  AIR  PILOT 

hear?  But  they  will;  Schmitt  will  whisper  it; 
that  detective  will  not  remain  dumb.  The  gos- 
sip of  it  will  creep  from  lip  to  lip,  accompanied 
by  many  a  sly  smile.  You  can  conceal  crime  by 
influence  possibly,  but  all  your  consuls  and  am- 
bassadors cannot  curb  scandal.  Once  in  the  air, 
it  spreads.  That  is  what  your  love  has  done  for 
me,  Monsieur." 

I  caught  the  upraised  hand,  and  held  it,  in  spite 
of  her  effort  to  draw  away. 

"That  is  enough;  now  listen  to  me,"  in  a  tone 
which  quieted  her.  "You  have  played  with  me 
all  night,  but  this  is  my  turn  to  be  heard.  I  am 
no  boy,  not  to  know  my  own  mind.  You  insist 
love  is  not  born  in  a  night,  but  I  doubt  if  it  is 
ever  born  in  any  other  way.  No !  you  shall  listen 
to  every  word  I  have  to  say.  Mademoiselle,  I 
have  loved  you  ever  since  we  sat  in  that  restaurant 
alone  together.  I  know  not  what  made  me  your 
captive;  that  is  mystery;  but  I  confess  the  truth. 
Your  doubt  does  not  change  the  fact.  I  am  a 
man,  and  have  seen  much  of  life;  I  have  known 
many  women  of  charm  and  beauty;  I  have  pre- 
tended love,  even  while  my  heart  scoffed  at  the 
possibility.     I  had  reached  a  stage  where  I  al- 


LOVE  AMONG  THE  CLOUDS    299 

most  believed  there  was  no  such  reality — that  the 
conception  of  love  was  a  mere  dream,  a  boyish 
delusion,  almost  an  insanity.  Then  I  met  you, 
looked  into  your  face,  listened  to  your  voice,  your 
laughter,  gazed  into  the  depths  of  your  eyes — 
and  awoke!  I  found  your  presence  meant  life 
to  me — new  life.  It  did  not  require  a  month,  or 
a  year,  for  me  to  learn  this;  it  was  the  gift  of  a 
moment.  From  then  until  now  I  have  had  but 
one  thought — you!" 

She  stared  at  me,  fascinated  by  my  earnestness, 
with  lips  parted,  and  cheeks  flushed. 

"But  I  told  you—" 

"Yes,  you  told  me ;  you  insisted  I  did  not  know 
my  own  mind;  that  because  I  was  a  Frenchman 
I  possessed  no  stability.  You  laughed  at  me 
then,  and  I  supposed  that  laughter  represented 
your  own  feeling.  It  checked  my  audacity,  but 
did  not  kill  my  love.  I  could  not  tell  you  all; 
you  would  not  let  me.  Almost  I  thought  you  did 
not  care.  Then  I  saw  your  eyes  in  the  glow  of 
the  lamp — caught  glimpse  of  them  when  you 
were  unconscious  of  their  betrayal — and  in  their 
depths  read  my  fate.  You  were  not  indifferent, 
not  heartless — you  cared  for  me !    Don't  protest, 


800  THE  AIR  PILOT 

Mademoiselle;  I  know.  The  night  had  worked 
two  miracles.  I  cared  no  longer  for  the  foil  of 
your  lips,  for  I  had  had  a  glimpse  at  your  heart. 
It  was  then  I  resolved  you  should  go  with  me — 
not  to  dishonor,  but  to  peace.  I  could  not  wait; 
I  had  not  the  patience;  I  would  bear  you  away 
as  warriors  did  of  old.  I  had  found  my  mate, 
and  I  took  you." 

"But  I — I  am  nothing,"  she  urged,  the  tears 
in  her  eyes,  "only  an  American  working  girl! 
Monsieur,  you  cannot  mean — " 

"Yet  I  do,"  I  interrupted.  "I  have  met 
queens,  Mademoiselle,  and  princesses,  but  no 
pulse  throbbed  because  of  their  presence.  They 
were  women,  but  nothing  to  me.  You  came  to 
me  out  of  the  night;  yesterday  you  did  not  even 
exist;  yet  here  in  the  dawn  you  are  the  world. 
Whatever  your  name,  your  station — even 
though  you  have  none — matters  not  at  all.  It 
is  you,  Mademoiselle,  you  I  love;  you  whom  I 
would  call  wife,  and  bear  away  with  me  across 
the  seas  to  France.  And  you  will  come?  Ah, 
surely,  you  will  come." 

"Will  I?    You  are  so  sure?" 

I  looked  long  into  her  eyes,  misty  with  unshed 


LOVE  AMONG  THE  CLOUDS    301 

tears  dewing  their  lashes,  yet  frankly  meeting 
mine. 

"Yes,  I  am  sure,"  I  said  slowly. 

Her  eyes  fell,  but  her  hand  remained  in  mine, 
warm  and  throbbing.  That  was  a  strange  place 
for  love  to  speak,  and  I  could  not  reach  out  my 
arms  to  draw  her  to  me ;  I  could  only  gaze  at  the 
flushed,  averted  face,  wondering  what  she  would 
say.  Down  below  was  the  curving  line  of  shore, 
rocky  and  desolate,  the  high  bluff  fringed  with 
trees.  With  fingers  grasping  the  wheels  I 
swung  the  monoplane  in  wide  circle  to  the  right, 
and  then  permitted  it  to  glide  toward  the  earth 
with  motor  stopped,  poising  the  frail  craft  just 
above  the  higher  branches  in  slow  flight. 

"Do  we  land  here,  Monsieur?" 

"Beyond,  in  the  open  field,"  I  answered,  too 
busy  even  to  glance  about.  "Look  behind,  and 
see  if  there  are  any  vessels  within  viewing  dis- 
tance." 

She  turned  partially  in  her  seat,  held  firm  by 
the  strap,  and  gazed  back  under  the  shadow  of 
an  uplifted  hand.  There  was  an  instant  of  si- 
lence; then  a  startled  exclamation. 

"It — it  is  a  man!     Look,  Monsieur!" 


CHAPTER  XXII 

FACE  TO   FACE  IN   MID-AIE 

IT  was  a  delicate  moment  for  interruption,  yet 
I  could  not  ignore  that  cry,  nor  her  sudden 
grasp  on  my  arm.  My  heart  leaped  into 
my  throat,  yet  I  retained  sufficient  presence  of 
mind  to  turn  on  the  power,  and  by  twist  of  the 
wheel  sent  the  monoplane  mounting  into  the  sky. 
An  instant  we  dipped  perilously,  ere  the  planes 
adjusted  themselves,  and  I  dare  glance  about. 

"There,"  she  sobbed  in  excitement.  "It  is  a 
man!    How  did  he  ever  get  there?" 

I  could  plainly  see  the  form  lying  outstretched 
upon  the  steel  wire,  the  hands  gripping  the  light 
bamboo  framework,  the  face  hidden.  The  fel- 
low was  safe  enough  unless  he  deliberately  thrust 
his  body  through  the  openings,  yet  the  posture 
was  sufficiently  uncomfortable,  and  it  was  his 
weight,  no  doubt,  which  had  made  the  monoplane 
so  unmanageable.  But  how  had  he  got  there? 
Was  he  dead  or  alive?     I  shouted  back  at  him, 

302 


FACE  TO  FACE  IN  MID-AIR    303 

my  voice  carried  by  the  wind,  and  in  response 
to  my  second  call,  he  lifted  his  head,  revealing  a 
face  blackened  by  dried  blood,  but  otherwise 
ghastly  in  its  whiteness.  I  caught  her  quick  gasp 
at  my  shoulder : 

"Why!  Why!  it's  Captain  Brandt!" 
I  recognized  him  then,  a  peculiar  feeling  of  re- 
vulsion seeming  to  choke  me,  as  my  hands 
gripped  hard  on  the  steering  wheel.  What  was 
he  doing  there?  How  did  he  ever  dare  such  a 
mad  feat?  Was  it  accident,  or  design  that  had 
made  him  a  passenger?  I  was  in  no  way  sur- 
prised at  not  having  discovered  his  presence  be- 
fore. I  had  felt  the  odd  drag  of  the  over- 
weighted machine,  the  sodden  slowness  with 
which  it  responded  to  the  rudder.  I  realized 
something  must  be  wrong — that  De  Vigne  had 
possibly  overloaded  it — and  had  glanced  back 
more  than  once  during  our  earlier  flight.  Yet 
in  the  darkness,  and  the  gray  deceptive  dawn, 
I  had  perceived  nothing.  Lying  as  he  did,  out- 
stretched between  the  frames,  he  might  easily 
have  passed  unnoticed.  All  these  considerations 
flashed  instantly  across  my  mind,  yet  I  pos- 
sessed just  then  brief  space  for  thought,  as  even 


304  THE  AIR  PILOT 

his  slight  movement  in  the  effort  to  uplift  his 
head,  so  affected  the  equipoise  of  the  plane  as 
to  send  us  careening  in  perilous  fashion.  Had 
we  been  equipped  with  warping  gear  instead  of 
the  more  quickly  manipulated  ailerons,  I  doubt 
if  I  could  have  righted  the  frail  craft,  but  as  it 
was,  with  a  shudder,  the  great  wings  settled  into 
stability,  and  we  circled  like  a  huge  bird  seeking 
to  alight. 

"Lie  down,  you  fool!"  I  roared  back  over  my 
shoulder.  "Don't  move  again,  if  you  value  your 
life!" 

I  do  not  even  know  if  he  heard  me,  but  Made- 
moiselle did,  and  I  caught  the  thread  of  her  voice 
calling  to  him  also,  and  saw  the  motion  of  her 
hands.  As  for  me  I  was  far  too  busily  occupied 
with  levers  and  wheels  to  pay  heed  to  anything 
else.  We  had  already  swept  past  the  open  field 
I  had  chosen  for  a  landing  place,  yet  I  was  ob- 
sessed now  with  an  eagerness  to  attain  solid  earth. 
The  very  knowledge  that  the  fellow — half  mad 
with  fright  from  the  expression  of  his  face — was 
clinging  to  the  precarious  support  of  that  open 
framework,  gave  me  a  feeling  of  terror.  What 
he  might  do,  or  attempt,  in  his  desperation,  could 


FACE  TO  FACE  IN  MID-AIR    305 

not  be  guessed  at,  yet  any  effort  on  his  part  to 
change  his  position,  to  even  rise  to  his  knees, 
might  hurl  us  headlong.  The  very  secret  of  the 
plane,  its  stability  in  the  air,  its  power  of  bal- 
ancing, and  swift  response  to  the  rudder,  de- 
pended on  the  equal  distribution  of  weight,  the 
absence  of  any  conflicting  element.  During  the 
two  hours  of  flight  the  man  must  have  remained 
motionless  and  inert,  perhaps  unconscious — but 
now!  Aroused,  frightened,  possibly  insane  at 
sudden  discovery  of  his  perilous  position,  there 
was  no  knowing  what  he  might  attempt.  Our 
very  lives  hung  in  the  balance,  and  the  beads  of 
perspiration  clung  to  my  forehead,  and  the  blood 
seemed  to  stagnate  in  my  veins. 

"For  God's  sake  keep  him  quiet!"  I  cried  out 
to  her,  "until  I  can  find  a  landing  place.  You 
hear?" 

"Yes." 

I  knew  she  answered ;  knew  dimly  that  she  un- 
fastened the  strap  holding  her  firm  in  the  seat, 
and  turned  her  body  so  as  to  face  him.  It  was 
in  my  mind  to  protest,  to  restrap  her;  I  even 
reached  out  one  hand  for  the  buckle,  but  a  sudden 
dip  of  the  machine  brought  it  instantly  back  to 


306  THE  AIR  PILOT 

the  steering  wheel.  I  glanced  down,  desperate 
enough  to  accept  any  chance,  my  eyes  survey- 
ing the  scene  below.  We  were  above  a  country 
of  woods  and  hills,  interspersed  by  small  lakes, 
connected  by  narrow  streams,  scarcely  visible.  I 
saw  but  one  town,  a  mere  hamlet,  far-away  to 
the  right,  nestled  beside  a  body  of  shimmering 
water.  Here  and  there  amid  the  forest  growth 
appeared  small  clearings,  many  of  them  covered 
by  stumps  of  trees,  but,  a  mile  away,  was  an  open 
field,  an  oasis  in  the  wide  stretch  of  forest,  green 
with  some  vegetable  growth.  It  beckoned  me 
like  some  mystic  hand.  I  was  cool  now,  deter- 
mined, my  nerves  like  steel;  every  instinct  alert. 

"Hold  tight,  Mademoiselle ;  we  're  going 
down!"  I  warned  her,  and  shut  off  my  motor. 

With  a  great  swoop  the  monoplane  glided  for- 
ward, and  then  dipped ;  swung  sharply  to  the  left 
under  the  influence  of  some  air  wave,  then  righted 
itself  again,  and  swooped  downward  toward  the 
advancing  earth.  With  feet  braced  I  held  the 
sharp  nose  straight,  barely  grazing  the  trees  of 
a  high  ridge,  as  we  swirled  level,  steering  for  the 
open  field.  At  that  instant  something  hap- 
pened, something  which  flung  the  speeding  ma- 


FACE  TO  FACE  IN  MID-AIR    307 

chine  careering  sharply  to  one  side.  I  tugged 
at  the  wheel,  but  there  was  no  time,  no  distance, 
left  in  which  to  recover.  It  was  all  in  a  second, 
a  swift  mad  fall.  I  know  we  struck  the  branch 
of  a  tree,  breaking  it;  then  another,  and  went 
crashing  down,  turning  almost  completely  over 
as  we  fell.  I  know  not  how  it  was  done,  but  I 
jerked  the  strap  from  off  me,  and  gripped  her 
in  my  arms.  I  heard  the  crash,  a  scream — and 
then  we  were  flung  forward,  clear  of  the  debris, 
into  the  tangled  underbrush. 

I  could  not  have  lost  consciousness,  for  I  real- 
ized it  all;  that  she  was  within  my  arms,  resting 
on  me ;  then  that  she  was  alive,  and  was  upon  her 
knees,  one  arm  lifting  my  head.  I  heard  her 
voice,  but  it  sounded  a  long  ways  off,  and  I  could 
not  answer,  or  move  my  body.  Someone 
groaned,  and  I  could  see  her  face,  white  but  un- 
scarred,  looking  down  into  mine.  I  tried  to  smile 
at  her,  but  failed.  Then  she  lifted  me  higher, 
until  my  head  found  rest  on  her  shoulder,  and 
the  mist  seemed  to  drift  away,  and  my  brain  be- 
gan to  comprehend.  I  endeavored  to  speak, 
gulping  with  dry  throat,  managing  at  last  to  ar- 
ticulate : 


308  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"You — you  are  not  hurt?" 

"No;  only  jarred  and  bruised;  you  were  be- 
neath when  we  fell,"  her  voice  sobbing.  "Are 
you  better  now?  My  God,  at  first  I  thought  you 
were  dead!" 

"I  must  have  been  stunned,  partially  at  least," 
finding  voice  easier.  "I  seemed  paralyzed,  but 
now  I  can  move  my  limb.s.  Yes,  I  can  sit  up, 
but  am  as  weak  as  a  kitten.  I  suppose  the  ma- 
chine has  gone  to  smash?" 

She  nodded,  unable  to  speak,  and  I  sat  there 
breathing  heavily,  and  stared  across  her  shoulder 
at  the  wreck.  It  was  complete;  nothing  re- 
mained but  a  mass  of  twisted  wire  and  charred 
bamboo.  The  engine  was  blown  into  fragments, 
although  I  had  no  recollection  of  hearing  the  ex- 
plosion ;  the  blades  of  the  propeller  were  impaled 
on  the  spike  of  a  limb,  and  the  rudder  remained 
but  a  splinter.  Beside  it  lay  the  motionless  body 
of  Brandt,  his  head  hidden  behind  a  small  bush. 
The  sight  made  me  shudder. 

"I  must  try  to  get  up,"  I  said;  "we  cannot  re- 
main here." 

"Oh,  not  yet,"  and  she  restrained  me  with  her 
hands,     "There  is  nothing  you  can  do,  and  you 


FACE  TO  FACE  IN  MID-AIR    309 

are  too  dizzy  to  stand — the  machine  is  beyond  re- 
pair." 

"I  see  that;  a  complete  smash-up.  Well,  the 
secret  of  the  motor  is  safe  enough  now.  Is 
Brandt  killed?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  and  she  glanced  over  toward 
him.  "He  was  groaning,  but  I  could  not  leave 
you.     Shall  I  go  now?" 

"Just  a  moment  first;  there  is  brandy  in  the 
inside  pocket  of  this  coat,  if  the  flask  has  not 
broken.  We  shall  both  be  better  for  a  sip  of  it. 
Can  you  get  it  out?     My  ringers  seem  useless." 

She  fumbled  at  the  buttons,  and  brought  forth 
the  flask.  It  was  half  full,  and  I  compelled  her 
to  take  a  swallow  before  drinking  myself.  The 
liquor  sent  a  warmth  through  my  veins  instantly, 
and  I  began  to  exercise  my  numbed  limbs,  as- 
suring myself  no  bones  were  broken.  High 
above  us  was  the  tree  we  had  struck,  two  of  the 
upper  limbs  dangling.  I  stared  up  at  them, 
measuring  the  distance  of  our  fall. 

"Fully  sixty  feet,"  I  said  unconsciously  aloud. 
"We  might  have  all  been  killed." 

She  shuddered,  covering  her  eyes,  after  one 
glance  upward. 


310  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"I — I  think  we  struck  that  large  branch,  where 
all  those  smaller  limbs  are  broken,"  she  explained. 
"That,  and  this  underbrush  were  what  saved  us 
from  greater  injury.  I — I  hardly  knew  what 
happened." 

"The  machine  swerved,  and  I  lost  control;  it 
overbalanced.  Did  you  see  what  Brandt  was  do- 
ing?" 

"He  got  to  his  knees,  his  head  thrust  through 
the  wires.  I  cried  out  to  him,  but  he  did  not 
seem  to  hear.  Then  we  went  over,  and  you 
caught  me.  That  is  all  I  knew,  until  I  found 
myself  lying  here  on  you.  There  was  an  awful 
sound  as  the  monoplane  struck,  and  a  report  like 
a  cannon." 

"When  the  motor  blew  up." 

"Yes,  a  piece  hurtled  through  the  air  just  over 
us;  it  is  there  now  in  those  bushes.  I  was  so 
frightened,  and  shocked,  I  lay  there  across  you, 
and — and  prayed.  Then  I  saw  your  face,  and 
I  knew  I  must  do  something  or  we  would  all 
die." 

She  was  trembling  like  a  leaf  at  the  remem- 
brance, her  words  barely  audible.  This  would 
never  do :  action  alone  would  serve  to  restore  her 


FACE  TO  FACE  IN  MID-AIR    311 

nerves,  bring  back  her  shattered  courage.  Help- 
ing myself  by  grasp  on  her  shoulder  I  managed 
to  attain  my  feet,  and  stood  erect,  my  head  throb- 
bing with  a  dull  ache,  swaying  at  first  like  a 
drunken  man.  But  the  dizziness  passed,  and  I 
was  able  to  balance  myself,  and  even  essay  a  few 
steps,  still  holding  to  her  arm  for  partial  sup- 
port. The  woods  were  all  about  us,  but  through 
the  underbrush  I  could  perceive  not  far  away  the 
edge  of  that  green  field,  where  I  sought  to  land. 

"We  will  go  over  and  see  the  fellow,"  I  said 
slowly,  "and  then  find  some  way  out  of  here.  I 
think  there  is  a  wood  road  yonder." 

We  walked  the  hundred  feet  in  silence,  for  I 
found  I  needed  all  my  strength,  although  the  ex- 
ercise increased  my  power  noticeably.  I  ap- 
proached Brandt,  wondering  whether  the  man 
was  dead  or  alive,  and  with  little  feeling  of 
special  bitterness  toward  him.  Above  all  I  was 
curious  as  to  how  he  got  there;  how  he  ever  found 
place  on  the  frame  of  the  monoplane.  He  re- 
mained motionless,  and  I  hauled  him  forth  from 
the  bush,  convinced  he  was  beyond  our  help,  only 
to  discover  his  eyes  wide  open. 

"So  you  're  not  dead,  my  man!"  I  began,  half 


312  THE  AIR  PILOT 

angry  at  his  play  acting.  "What 's  the  matter 
then?     Can't  you  sit  up?" 

He  pressed  one  hand  against  his  side,  and 
groaned;  then,  using  the  other  as  a  support,  lifted 
himself  into  sitting  posture. 

"I  fell  on  my  head,"  he  responded  finally,  "and 
was  tangled  up  in  that  bush.  My  side  hurts 
badly." 

I  looked  at  it,  finding  his  clothing  slashed,  and 
a  rather  ugly  looking  wound  extending  from  hip 
to  shoulder.  From  all  appearance  the  flesh  had 
been  gouged  by  a  sharp  piece  of  wood;  the  wound 
had  bled  considerably,  and  must  have  been  pain- 
ful, but  was  scarcely  more  than  skin  deep. 

"That 's  nothing,  Brandt,"  I  announced,  half 
inclined  to  laugh  at  the  pitiful  expression  on  his 
face.  "You  are  due  to  live  a  long  while  yet. 
Mademoiselle,  would  you  take  my  cap,  and  bring 
me  some  water  from  the  stream  yonder." 

She  hurried  away  in  the  direction  indicated, 
returning  at  once  to  hold  back  the  clothing,  while 
I  washed  and  bandaged  the  gash.  Then  I  gave 
him  a  drink  of  brandy,  and  helped  him  to  his 
feet. 

"Now,  Monsieur,"  I  said  cheerfully,  "the  cut 


FACE  TO  FACE  IN  MID-AIR    313 

will  likely  hurt  some,  but  you  are  in  no  danger. 
A  surgeon  over  there  in  the  village  will  make 
you  more  comfortable,  but  I  beg  you  forgo  that 
look  of  suffering.  It  is  my  thought  you  are  a 
lucky  dog." 

He  looked  at  me,  and  then  at  Mademoiselle, 
as  though  he  doubted  our  pretense  of  geniality. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  me?"  he  asked 
at  last  soberly. 

"Do  with  you !"  I  echoed.  "We  shall  only  be 
too  glad  to  see  the  last  of  you,  Monsieur.  You 
overestimate  your  importance.  Back  beyond 
that  big  oak  there  is  a  wood  road ;  you  are  to  go 
to  it,  and  then  turn  to  the  right.  It  will  lead 
you  to  a  town — unless  you  care  to  examine  the 
monoplane  further?" 

He  glanced  toward  the  wreck  in  uncertainty; 
then  back  into  my  face. 

"You  mean  I  am  to  go  without — without 
trouble?" 

"Certainly;  you  are  helpless  to  injure  us  in 
any  way."  I  paused,  thinking.  "Yet  first, 
Monsieur,  I  will  ask  you  a  question — how  came 
you  there  on  the  machine?" 

He  answered  slowly,  as  though  still  dazed, 


314  THE  AIR  PILOT 

lapsing  into  German  for  better  expression. 
"I  cannot  tell,  not  altogether;  it  was  strange, 
how  it  happened  as  it  did.  I  was  hit,  Monsieur 
— you  know  that.  I  knew  nothing,  until  I  woke 
in  the  dark,  but  I  could  see  a  little  against  the 
sky,  where  the  door  was  open.  They  were  push- 
ing out  the  monoplane,  and  there  were  the  out- 
lines of  your  forms  up  above,  I  could  not  think 
at  first,  only  feel.  The  one  conception  which 
gripped  me  was  that  you  were  going  away,  were 
escaping.  My  brain  seemed  to  grasp  only  the 
one  thought  that  I  must  stop  you.  I  was  dazed, 
weak,  yet  I  staggered  out  of  the  hangar.  I 
heard  the  voice  of  your  man  shouting  orders  at 
the  right  of  the  rudder,  and  I  turned  the  other 
way,  so  as  not  to  be  seen.  The  little  Irish  de- 
tective was  there,  and  I  pushed  him  aside.  He 
was  afraid  of  me.  By  this  time  the  machine 
was  moving  fast,  but  I  did  not  realize  the  dan- 
ger; only  retained  the  one  thought  of  stopping 
you  before  it  was  too  late.  I  climbed  onto  the 
frame  and  crawled  up.  I  had  no  knowledge  we 
had  left  the  ground;  it  seemed  as  if  I  was  crazed. 
Then  all  at  once,  I  noticed  the  lights  away  down 
below.    After  that,  Monsieur,  I  hardly  know 


FACE  TO  FACE  IN  MID-AIR    315 

what  happened.  It  seemed  to  me  I  had  no  mind 
left.  I  just  lay  there  gripping  the  rods,  and  felt 
sick.  I  was  on  my  face  looking  down,  and  my 
brain  reeled  so  I  could  not  lift  my  head.  I 
heard  your  voices,  and  twice  I  called  out,  but 
the  wind  blew  the  sound  away.  I  think  I 
fainted  from  terror,  for  there  was  a  time  when 
I  knew  nothing,  although  I  held  my  grip." 

He  stopped  speaking,  his  face  buried  in  his 
hands,  unable  even  then  to  shake  off  the  horror 
of  his  experience.  I  could  not  help  but  feel 
sympathy,  yet  had  no  desire  to  let  him  realize 
the  fact. 

"You  were  in  no  real  danger,  Brandt,"  I  said 
quietly,  "but  I  guess  you  suffered  enough.  Now 
you  had  better  go." 

He  looked  at  us  both  questioningly,  and 
turned  away.  We  stood  and  watched  him  pick 
his  way  through  the  underbrush  until  he  came  to 
the  road.  Without  glancing  back,  he  turned  to 
the  right  and  disappeared.  I  walked  over,  and 
looked  again  at  the  wrecked  monoplane,  wonder- 
ing how,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  we  had  all  come 
out  alive  from  such  a  crash.  Then  I  came  back 
to  where  she  waited. 


316  THE  AIR  PILOT 

"It  is  our  turn  now,  Mademoiselle,"  I  said, 
"to  take  to  the  road." 

"Is  the  town  far  away?" 

"A  mile,  perhaps  two.  I  merely  caught  a 
glimpse  of  it  just  before  we  fell." 

Her  long  lashes  lifted,  and  her  eyes  met  mine, 
in  their  depths  the  glimmer  of  a  smile. 

"We  are  upon  the  solid  earth  now,  Monsieur," 
she  said  softly. 

"Yes — why  do  you  say  that?" 

The  lashes  fell,  her  cheeks  crimson. 

"When  we  were  up  there  I — I  thought  you 
wished  to— to  kiss  me,"  her  lips  faltered,  "only 
you — you  did  not  dare." 

And  I  did. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MME.    HELEN   DESSATJD 

THE  group  about  the  table  in  the  smok- 
ing room  of  the  Cedric  remained  mo- 
tionless, silent,  waiting  for  the  narrator 
to  continue.  We  were  intensely  interested,  our 
cigars  out,  all  our  eyes  upon  him.  One  of  the 
ship's  officers  stood,  just  inside  the  door  leaning 
against  the  bulkhead.  The  swinging  light  re- 
vealed expectant  faces.  It  was  the  little  man 
whose  curiosity  broke  the  silence. 

"Is  that  all,  Monsieur?"  he  asked  eagerly. 

The  Lieutenant  smiled,  glancing  about  the 
circle,  and  touching  a  flaming  match  to  his  cigar. 

"I  have  completed  the  story,  Messieurs,"  he 
returned  pleasantly.  "These  were  the  adven- 
tures of  a  night,  but  the  end  I  know  not.  I 
merely  wished  you  to  understand  that  the  Des- 
saud  monoplane  was  no  'fake.'  Have  I  demon- 
strated that?" 

"You   certainly  have,"   answered   a   strange 

3J7 


318  THE  AIR  PILOT 

voice  heartily,  "and  also  the  existence  of  romance 
even  in  this  prosaic  age.  Yet  you  leave  us  in 
uncertainty." 

The  Frenchman's  eyes  were  looking  across  my 
shoulder  toward  the  open  door,  smiling  pleas- 
antly.    Then  he  arose  to  his  feet. 

"I  understand,  I  think,"  he  said,  bowing  to 
us,  "and  will  endeavor  to  supply  the  deficiency. 
Messieurs,  my  wife — Mme.  Helen  Dessaud." 

She  stood  there  in  the  open  doorway,  and  the 
light  made  her  appear  a  picture  in  a  frame — 
a  dark-haired,  bright-eyed  woman,  gazing  at  us 
in  surprise. 

He  stepped  forward,  and  took  her  hand,  and 
thus  they  faced  us. 

"I  have  been  telling  them  my  adventures  in 
America,"  he  said  simply.     "That  is  all." 

There  was  an  instant  of  silence;  then  Hadley 
spoke : 

"The  health  of  Lieutenant  and  Mme.  Des- 
saud." 

We  drank  it  standing. 

THE  END 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  127  606     2 


